


B.A.K.E.O.F.F (by Dolly Varden Cake)

by Planet_Hunter



Series: The Great British Columbia Bake Off [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AccidentalArsonist!Wynonna, All other words written in blood over 18 months 3 weeks and 4 days, Also features gratuitous overuse of pineapples. Consider yourselves warned, Although Wynonna will say ‘ye big olde sack of airless dingadongies’ eventually, Angst written in crayon, Bake Off AU, Baking puns and innuendo including Lady fingers jokes, Bunny is a dick, But parts of it are also funny because this is a Bake Off AU, Comedy written in the Queen’s English, Doc!Doc, F/F, GoodDad!Nedley, Idiot!Nicole, I’m going to stop writing dick now, Nicole’s Mom talks to her in her mind, OC Jane the Sonographer who is my future wife, OC Natalie Haught, Smut written in pure fear, Sweet!Jeremy, There’s a whole bunch of dicks in this fic, Trigger warning for death and discussion of terminal illness (cancer) in chapter 8, a.k.a Dead!Momma Haught, champ is a dick, just go with it, paul is a dick, sad!Waverly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 186,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planet_Hunter/pseuds/Planet_Hunter
Summary: Recipe:Take one adored, innuendo filled British TV show about amateur bakers competing to win a coveted cake stand.Mix with supernatural Canadian TV show about redemption, found family and self acceptance.Add more knob jokes.Stir until just combined then pour into a well greased Ao3 pan.Bake for 12 chapters then serve Haught to a hopefully receptive audience.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: The Great British Columbia Bake Off [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934665
Comments: 371
Kudos: 279





	1. I Fall To Peaches (by Patsy Clinker Slice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bake Off prologue, in which we learn how much the Universe hates Nicole Haught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any resemblance to Canada (either living or dead) is purely coincidental.

_“_

_I fall to pieces  
_ _Each time I see you again  
_ _I_ _fall to pieces  
_ _How can I be just your friend?_

_“_

**A BAKE OFF PROLOGUE**

**SPRING  
** **Filming week one:** **Cake Week  
** **SATURDAY**

“On your marks!”

“Get set!” “BAAAAKE!”

It was only six words. Six words delivered by presenters Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins causing a wave of conflicting emotion to rise, swamping Nicole Haught as she stood with eleven other amateur bakers in the actual Great British-Columbia Bake Off tent.

Frozen to the spot, Nicole gazed around at the calming pastel shades, twee garlands of bunting and retro-styled appliances as dappled sunlight diffused through the trees lining the perfectly manicured lawns of the sprawling Gardner Estate near Nanaimo.

Nicole wondered if she looked out the window hard enough, would she see lambs gambolling without a care in the world, Peacocks strutting near the stream or maybe even a glimpse of the infamously well-endowed squirrel from previous seasons of Canada’s most popular reality TV show?

Her picture perfect surroundings were in stark contrast to the overwhelming intensity of stress just standing in the tent had created.

_I’m actually here in the Bake Off tent! I made it, Mom!_

Nicole still couldn’t believe it and now she had to actually bake, on camera, and present her creation to be scrutinised by the show judges Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, who both looked like the scariest nice people she would ever meet in her life.

If she made it through to the final there would be ten more weeks of this terror, through painful scrutinisation, tears, and disasters bookended by a further ten weeks of suffering through the broadcast of the show in Autumn.

She was going to be on TV.

_Holy Crap! I did NOT think this through properly!_

She felt excited, nervous, horrified, regretful and determined all in the same moment.

Her determination not let her nerves show through could already be classed an abject failure, as Nicole had yet to move a muscle despite the clear instruction to begin her very first Signature challenge.

“Nicole.”

“Nicole.”

“Hey!”

The captivating siren call of a voice gently calling her name was accompanied by a sharp breeze and the unmistakable snap of the corner of a tea towel breaking the sound barrier as it flicked in her face.

“Huh?”

Finally broken from her daze, Nicole’s eyes refocused, drinking in the woman who until yesterday, she knew only as (Uhhhhhhh).

Nicole had absolutely no interest in (Uhhhhhhh) whatsoever. None. Nope, no feelings at all. In fact, Nicole had spent the last three months actively not thinking about how lovely, kind, beautiful and arresting (Uhhhhhhh) seemed to be.

So of course (Uhhhhhhh) had made it through the Bake Off auditions and was now baking at the workstation in front of her, where the reality of her existence and Nicole’s nascent feelings could no longer be denied. Of course she had made it.

Because the universe hates Nicole Haught.

“Um, It’s time to bake, silly. You gotta get to it!”

“Oh, shit! Yeah, um.” Nicole began to look around her workstation, hands flapping in uncharacteristic indecision, not knowing which ingredients to pull out first or what she was even doing with her life.

“Are you alright my lovely?” Nicole looked up as show presenter Sue Perkins made her way over to the bench. She leaned in to stage whisper in Nicole’s ear. “Well done. You swore so they won’t be able to use most of that shot of you looking dopey eyed at angel pants over there.”

“What?”

_How does everyone know that I… I can’t do feelings right now. How do I stop… Shit!_

“Oh god, I said shit didn’t I?”

Sue laughed, “Yes, you did. Twice. But you better be careful from now on. No more stealing my shtick!” She was still smiling so Nicole took that as a good thing. “How about we do your Signature bake intro first, aye? Get you into the swing of things?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” As Sue left momentarily to wave the camera crew over, an unwelcome voice piped up from the station behind her.

“Smooth, Haughtshit. I thought you tested highly in the filming auditions? Get a grip. Of yourself. And nothing else.” Nicole turned towards the teasing voice behind her.

“What the hell, Wynonna?”

“I can see you staring at my sister’s ass. There will be no staring at asses. Unless it’s my ass. That’s fine. I’ve got a great ass.” Whatever the merits of Wynonna’s ass, Nicole was fast beginning to feel the woman was going to spend her entire stint in the tent actively trying to be a pain in her own.

“I got my eyes on you, narc.” Wynonna mimed poking her eyes out with two fingers, pointing them back at Nicole with a fierce stare.

“So long as those eyes are not planted on my ass then we have a deal Wynonna.”

_Because I can’t be interested in your sisters ass! I’m a married woman!_

“You wish, Haught-buns.”

Before the bickering could escalate, the camera crew were in place and Mary and Paul sauntered over to her workstation, all practised ease and confidence in front of the camera.

“Morning Nicole.” Paul opened.

“Morning, Mary. Paul.” Sue was right. This was the distraction she needed.

“Tell us about your bake then.”

**WINTER  
** **Nicole’s Vancouver City Apartment  
** **Three months prior to filming the Great British Columbia Bake Off**

“Mom!”

“Mom, I’m home! I have the best news!”

Nicole Haught burst through her apartment door like an excited puppy chasing a ball, complete with unintentional leg scamper. Her feet momentarily lost traction on the linoleum and she fell awkwardly to her knees, banging her elbow on the hallway occasional table.

“Ow…”

Although not normally clumsy, the ‘Universe’ with a capital ‘Fuck U’ certainly had a peculiar tendency towards making Nicole feel like it held a very personal vendetta against her well being.

“Did you see that Mom? I’m wearing my freakin’ work boots! Who slips in these things!” Nicole gathered her long legs underneath her and carefully stood, not at all convinced that a horde of glowing-eyed demons or homicidally possessed widows wouldn’t descend on her from a hell dimension or something equally ridiculous.

“Why does the universe hate me? Oh, anyway, Mom! Best news!”

Dropping her keys into the bowl of knick knacks on the table, Nicole made her way into the too large living room of her Vancouver apartment, pitching to an excited stop in front of her floor to ceiling bookshelf.

Her mom stared impassively from the middle shelf at Nicole’s eye height, her metallic green crested lid tilted slightly as if eternally questioning why she had to listen to her daughters endless stories. “Don’t look at me like that Mom. You’re gonna love this story, trust me.”

Shaped a pineapple complete with leafy crest, her mother’s metal urn looked like any other decorative ornament. It sat with Nicole’s criminal justice textbooks shelved to the left and an eclectic fiction collection on the right, effectively bookending her Mom in with the ideas and stories that collectively described elements of her daughter. The books looked like protective wings holding the memory of Natalie Haught aloft.

Nicole lifted the urn, cradling it in her arm absentmindedly while she paced the room and told her Mom the exciting news as if she were still there to hear the story

“So, I got a call at work today. You’ll never guess who it was!”

Nicole paused, waiting to hear if her Mom would answer. Because sometimes she did. Sometimes a thought would enter her head that was just so completely ’Natalie Haught‘, that Nicole felt connected to her Mom almost as strongly as she had when she was alive. True to form, Natalie had rather a lot to say.

Have I given you any indication at all that I care?

“Gee, thanks ‘Ma’. I’m tryin’ to tell you something here!” Nicole laughed as her Mom’s interjection took the form of a classic Golden Girls quote. Their shared love of the show was rivaled only by a certain reality baking show.

“It was the Bake Off people! They want me to audition for this year's show!” Nicole danced around the room, unable to hide her excitement.

Nicole always felt close to her Mom when she did the victory dance. It was something she had invented with her Grandmother years ago just to piss her mom off. It was part ‘Robot’ and part ‘Macarena’ but it was definitely all dork.

Nicole had danced it for her mom before she died, despite her weak protests. Thankfully, the words “I’m embarrassed to be related to you” were not her last on this earth. Not quite, anyway.

“I was so close last year Mom. So close, and now I’ve got a second chance to tick it off the bucket list. And you…” Nicole briefly lifted the urn up to her eyes. “...will be coming with me. It’ll be me and you against the world...”

_Like it used to be._

Placing a kiss to the knobbled exterior of the urn, Nicole sighed as she actively pushed thoughts of the past away and returned her Mom to her seat on the shelf. Now wasn’t the time to think about the past, only the future and how Nicole was going to conquer it.

_Speaking of the future._

Nicole had one more person to share her good news with. Her wife.

“Let’s hope I catch Shae in a good mood.” Nicole flicked her eyes back up to the urn. It always baffled her how it could look on, either impassively judging her or downright laughing in her face.

“I don’t care that you don’t like her, she’s my wife. That means something, Mom.” They’d had this argument before. Or rather, Nicole had repeatedly had this argument with an urn on a bookshelf and she wasn’t sure who she wanted to convince more - herself or her dead mother.

Nicole took out her phone to make the call but was stopped in her tracks. There were a dozen texts, three missed calls and even an email, all from Shae.

“Okay universe, what does this mean? She wants to talk again or…”

She opened the texts, reading only one before throwing the phone away to the couch.

“Oh shit. She was serious…”

It came out as a whisper but felt like napalm carpet bombed over her already confused feelings. Her internal and external worlds were now split, like watching news footage of an explosion where the flames are so vivid the heat could almost be felt, but the scene plays out in total, clinical and disbelieving silence.

Internally, her world was collapsing for the third time in as many years while externally, nothing had changed. She still looked as calm and in control as she might on any day on the job. Like nothing could ever bother her. But she could feel her breath shortening and the lightheadedness falling just short of dizziness that short-circuited the focus of her eyes.

Nicole knew she was moving. She could feel herself walking as she collected her mail, hands falling immediately to a fancy but bulky envelope embossed with expensive looking logos of a pricey local law firm. She tried to will her body to stop moving but her hands worked to diffuse the envelope anyway, as if there was a way of opening it that didn’t set off a bomb.

Her shaking fingers withdrew the papers within all while she kept up a monologue with her dead Mom. “So anyway Mom. We’ve got research to do for the auditions next week. Let’s marathon old Bake Off episodes while looking up European patisserie trends.”

Reading only the opening lines, ‘Petition for Divorce…’ Nicole flicked through the document quickly. Each page mocked her with perfect line spacing and elaborate, showy signatures ballooning across a good third of the final few pages.

Such perfection to symbolise the end of her dream perfect life.

“Fucking… fuck you ‘Universe’.” She muttered under her wavering breath, unwilling or unable to blame anyone other than the force of fate that continued to take things away from her.

Air was becoming a problem. There wasn’t enough of it in the room. She needed stability, something to hold on to, something to weigh down the papers so they didn’t rise up and strangle her with their finality.

Sitting on her couch, Nicole reached under the coffee table, hauling out a huge Canadian landscape photography book Shae had left behind. Opening it at random, Nicole shoved the papers somewhere between Mount Robson and Takakkaw Falls, crushing the entire document into a fossil. The air returned as Nicole felt a weight slide off her shoulders. The book was now an anchor, that was chained inexorably to her heart.

Shoving it back under the table, Nicole ached for the comforting arms of a giant mom hug but settled for grabbing the urn again and sitting back on the couch. As her memories threatened to break the damn of tears she’d been building for years, Nicole grabbed the remote and flicked the TV to Netflix.

Transferring her attention to something else entirely usually worked wonders. It was a form of denial by distraction that her Mom had patented ‘Haught-brand denial’ in her final months and Nicole had taken to it like a Haught to vanilla-dipped doughnuts.

Two more ignored phone calls, unanswered texts, three Bake Off episodes and a chinese food delivery later, Nicole was still perched on the couch with her mom’s urn clutched under her arm in a death grip.

 _ **Let me tell you about a lesson I learned when I was a little girl in St Olaf. If you hold a pineapple gently, it will smell nice. But if you squeeze the pineapple, it will explode in your damn face**_.

“Shit, sorry Mom.” Switching off the TV, Nicole unfolded her legs and returned her Mom to her perch.

“What are you trying to tell me? I let her go, and she… What if she doesn’t want to come back? I love her... don’t I? I want my marriage. How is ‘holding her gently’ going to make her see that?”

The urn prompted no more philosophical musings with the oeuvre of the Golden Girls seemingly tapped out for now.

Throwing a final look towards the coffee table and the hidden book anchor beneath it, Nicole dragged herself to her empty unmade bed with a final rhetorical question.

“Can’t everything stay still for one frickin’ minute? What next Universe?”

She really shouldn’t have asked.

(－‸ლ) (－‸ლ) (－‸ლ)

Her name was (Uhhhhhhh).

Or at least, her stand in name was (Uhhhhhhh) because over the course of the day, Nicole utterly failed to find out what her real one was.

A tiny ball of human comfort, (Uhhhhhhh) was in a separate audition group from Nicole but she could see her through the large throngs of people bustling around the convention centre. A flash of hair here. A stunning peek of a smile that could warm a thousand hearths. (Uhhhhhhh) took care to talk to everyone in her group, offering high-fives, comforting words and hugs after her fellow bakers goods had been called up for judgement.

It was actually hard not to watch (Uhhhhhhh)’s gregariousness. She was like an actual ray of sunshine in a maelstrom of human anxiety. Everyone she spoke to seemed to come away from the encounter with a smile on their face and a lightness to their shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

Nicole caught (Uhhhhhhh)’s eye more than once over the course of the afternoon, both intentionally and not so intentionally, her curiosity piqued in a way Nicole wasn’t fully conscious of. Yet Nicole knew she had let out a smile with a thousand lumens of brightness at the latest brush of their gaze.

_My god, but she’s…_

The word ‘beautiful’ seemed redundant on (Uhhhhhhh) although it was certainly apt. But that didn’t seem to be the reason Nicole felt drawn to her. There was just an energy about her. The way she moved like her feet didn’t didn’t touch the ground. The way she seemed to be looking out for the others in her group, comforting them with a soft hand to the shoulder or prodding them with an encouraging smile when it was their turn to present their bakes to the judging table. There was a genuineness and caring that just seemed to exude from the woman and Nicole found herself incapable of not noticing it.

So when (Uhhhhhhh)’s smile dropped, almost imperceptibly and a frown began to creep down her forehead Nicole almost felt wounded. Then, (Uhhhhhhh) raised her hand, pointing back at Nicole in a silent question from across the room.

“Nicole Haught. Is Nicole Haught here?” A harried voice attached to a walking clipboard finally carried to her eardrums. “

Hey, Haught!”

Nicole reluctantly tore her eyes away from (Uhhhhhh), finally noticing the slight pull on her sleeve.

“You’re up! Quick!”

“Oh, right. Thanks Nedley!”

Thank goodness for Randy Nedley. He was a stout man with a gruff persona but he had kind eyes. They had spent an engaging hour swapping law enforcement stories and Nicole had quickly dubbed him (steadfast) Randy before learning he preferred people to use his last name.

Quickly losing sight of the other bakers and the woman known as (Uhhhhhhh), Nicole hurried up to the ‘Table of Judgement’ and managed to talk through her bakes with the panel of official looking people with clipboards, iPads and colour coded stickers. Which surprised her because most of her brain capacity was preoccupied with questions of (Uhhhhhhh).

_Who is she? I wonder if she lives nearby? How is she like this?_

Nicole wandered back to her audition group in a bit of a daze.

“So, how was it?” Nedley asked.

“Um, to be honest I have no idea. I must’ve engaged auto-pilot or something!”

Infuriatingly, she couldn’t remember a single thing about the entire encounter, but she remembered the way (Uhhhhhhh)’s hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, the way her eyes creased adorably whenever she smiled and the way she instantly moved in to physically comfort people with a delicate hand to the knee, or soft hug around the shoulders.

_I wonder what that feels like… Damn it (Uhhhhhhh)! I needed to nail this audition!_

Nedley gave her a knowing smile then clapped a reassuring hand to her back. “Oh, well. It will all be over soon and you’ll be able to go on over and introduce yourself.”

“What?” Nicole looked at Nedley in disbelief. Had she really been that obvious? Apparently so, as he seemed to be unable to hide his smirk under his moustache. He seemed to be the kind of man who rarely smiled so Nicole found the whole encounter a little off-putting.

“No, it’s not like that, I’m not looking for...”

She didn’t get the chance to prove her new friend Nedley wrong as (Uhhhhhhh) disappeared soon after. One moment she was hugging a distraught man with a flashy white mohawk and the next she was gone, leaving (showpony) mohawk dude to stare forlornly at his mangled muffins alone.

By the time she returned home, Nicole felt off. Deflated. Disappointed somehow.

“Oh my god. What the fuck is wrong with me.”

Dropping her keys in the bowl by the door Nicole dutifully reporting in to her Mom upon her return home.

She wove a long and descriptive story about the audition process, the food she saw and tasted and some recipes she’d shared with other people she met, avoiding the topic of (Uhhhhhhh) completely until she couldn’t hold it back from her Mom any longer.

“Oh, and I met someone today. A girl. Actually, I didn’t meet her. I just kind of… noticed her… from across the room.”

Nicole paused as her mind filled with unwelcome images of (Uhhhhhhh). It was like thoughts of her didn’t belong in the home she had shared with Shae. Like even thinking of (Uhhhhhhh) was some kind of betrayal.

_**Ah, thank fuck ‘Cole. The world’s most boring story finally got interesting. I’m picturing longing looks across a beach in Sicily...** _

“Mom, I was literally in the concrete hell that is the downtown convention centre.”

_**There’s very little to look at inside this fucking urn. As far as I’m concerned you are about to tell me an epic tale of star crossed lovers who met over mediocre Peach Cobbler on a tour of ancient Sicilian ruins. Let me have my Mills & Boon fantasy! ** _

“Fine. But it’s the world’s shortest story. Barely a novella, because I never actually talked to her. I don’t even know her name, just her tag. Um, I also met a guy called Randy too. He’s recently retired from the force and his bread is to die for, you’d like him a lot I think Mom. His tag is (steadfast).”

She could almost feel the presence of her Mom in the room, questioning the pause and the left out parts of the story.

_**Why won’t you tell me the girl’s tag?** _

Nicole sighed for the thousandth time since she started having these conversations in her head with her dead Mom. She didn’t want to answer the question but her mind had already conjured the smug, smirking image of her mother not letting the subject go until she knew she would cave.

_This is ridiculous! I’m arguing with myself!_

_**And therefore, it’s useless to escape. On some level, you want to tell me about her. So spill. Preferably embellished with more exciting story elements than the brutalist architecture of that hideous fucking building.** _

“I refuse.”

_**No you don’t.** _

“Yes. I do.” Nicole folded her arms petulant as she stared in defiance at the metal pineapple.

_**‘Cole, I am literally a figment of your imagination. I already know you like her and therefore I like her too because she’s got you to stop moping after that...** _

"Mom! Come on. Shae is my… Shae is my wife okay, so you don’t get to say…” Nicole’s gaze fell to the coffee table as the admission fell from her lips.

“Her tag is (Uhhhhhhh), Mom. It’s (Uhhhhhhh).”

Nicole’s head filled with the resounding laughter of the ghost of Natalie Haught, laughing at her from somewhere beyond the grave.

“I mean, why not (beautiful), or (warm) or (kind). Jesus, even (hot) would be better than (Uhhhhhhh). Objectifying, but accurate.”

_**How about (I’veGotTheHotsForFlergenflurfennerfen)!** _

"Shut it, Mom! It’s stupid! And I don’t like (Uhhhhhhh) okay. And even if I did, I’m not ready to see other people. I’m not ready to… I’m not ready.”

She rested her head against the bookcase as she folded her arms.

_**I know you’re not, ‘Cole-‘Cole. But you can Haught-brand deny it all you like. Shae is ready. Even if you are not.** _

Nicole changed tack abruptly, full attention swinging to left field as she utterly noped out of that train of thought.

“You know what Mom? I’m going to get a cat.”

The empty room and urn silently judged her proclamation.

“I mean it this time! I’m going to get the biggest, fattest cat I can find and then I’m going to let it sit on your rug and shed all over it.”

_**You’re already a lesbian Nicole. I’ll tell you now what I told you then. ‘So you like girls instead of guys. Some people like cats instead of dogs. Frankly, I’d rather live with a lesbian than a cat. Unless a lesbian sheds? That I don’t like’.** _

It was the same Golden Girls quote her mom had used when she had come out all those years ago and it was all her mom had ever said on the matter. Other than steadfastly refusing to ever let her get a cat.

“Well, guess what Mom. Now you can live with both.”

She flopped down on the sofa and tee’d up a Golden Girls marathon for the evening and tried to forget everything for a while.

She definitely, categorically, did not spend the next two weeks wondering if she would ever see (Uhhhhhhh) again.

Definitely not.  
  


(^=◕ᴥ◕=^)  
  


Six hours after leaving her apartment for filming auditions with a battered business card clutched in her hand, Nicole returned, slamming the door behind her.

Her plan to introduce herself, discover (Uhhhhhhh)’s real name and settle the thing once and for all had died a screaming flaming death of epic proportions.

“Mom?!”

The urn sat in her usual spot, silently waiting for a proclamation on the latest proof that the universe hated her daughter and why it was all her fault.

Nicole carefully placed a cardboard box on the floor. She unclipped the edges, opening it from the top before reaching in with one hand and gathering up a tiny ginger kitten.

“This is Calamity Jane. C.J., this is your Grandmother.” Nicole paused, waiting to see if her brain would conjure a ‘Mom’ response as the new arrival stared impassively at the pineapple shaped object before her.

_**What the fuck happened to make this abomination the obvious and logical solution to your problems?** _

Nicole was silent for a moment as she wrestled with the ball of fur in her hands, wondering how the memory of her dead mother was more insightful than her own conscious thoughts.

“(Uhhhhhhh) has a girlfriend!”

The loud, frustrated declaration prompted an unhappy mewl from the cat before Nicole continued the confession. “A girlfriend called either (unconditional) or (cold) depending on whether or not she’s looking at me.”

_**I bet she's not even her girlfriend. How do you know?** _

“You didn't see (unconditional) mom. The look she gave (Uhhhhhhh) was pure unconditional love every time she looked at her.”

Nicole turned the kitten around and tried to give it a nose boop. All she got was a small hiss and a scratch across her nose for her bonding efforts. She knew her mother was laughing at her again.

“Ow! I don’t care if she’s got a girlfriend anyway. I’m not interested in her. I’m not interested in her stupid smile, or her abhorant kindness…”

_**Riiiight. Well, I’m convinced.** _

“Come on CJ! Let’s get you set up on Mom's old rug in my room. You’re gonna love it.”

Calamity Jane did indeed love the rug in Nicole’s room but it turned out that she loved her Mom more.

Over the next month the cat explored the entire apartment and concluded that her favourite spot was in the bookcase draped dramatically around the urn.

Her second favourite spot was on the kitchen counter where Nicole spent hours after her shifts comfort baking while she waited for word on the show.

She made classics from her mother and grandmother’s extensive recipe collections, making adaptations with modern flavours and trying out different flour substitutes so her gluten intolerant neighbour Lonnie could help her eat the products of her experiments.

She was checking on her latest elaborate bread construction when the phone rang, so she let the machine pick it up as she adjusted the temperature of the oven.

_“Nicole? I know you’re screening. Pick up the phone. Jesus, you don’t have to make this so difficult. Can you just talk to me?”_

There was a pause as Nicole heard Shae sigh into the receiver.

_“Look, I know the papers arrived because it’s been weeks. If you won’t talk to me then just read through it and talk to me through the lawyers. I don’t want it to be like this Nikki. I’m not going to beg and I’m done badgering you. It’s all in your hands now.”_

A second pause dragged on before Shae spoke one more time.

_“Goodbye Nicole.”_

Nicole stared at the phone in silence until CJ offered her meowly opinion.

“How much longer do you think I can get away with ignoring this CJ?”

The kitten responded by standing up with an elongated stretch, waving her bottom haughtily in the air, then jumping away in elegant indifference.

“Yeah, me too CJ. Me too.”

The phone rang again. “Ugh, so much for not badgering me.” But as the machine picked up, Nicole suddenly found herself bolting for the receiver.

“Hey, I’m here. Sorry. sorry.”

Nicole spent the next hour listening intently, answering questions and scribbling down details on her fridge notepad as the delicate ring of her bread wreath burned in her oven.

“Mom!?”

She could practically hear her Mom admonishing her for her new habit of yelling from another room.

“Mom! We made it! We’re going to be on the Great British-Columbia Bake Off!!”

Her sudden appearance in the room caused Calamity to screech, clambering up from her spot on the bookshelf, knocking her Mom’s urn over as she made a desperate leap to the floor.

Nicole took a catch worthy of an action replay before her Mom joined the ball of fluff on the floor.

“I got you Mom. We’re going to be on Bake Off! We did it!”

_**Kid, your heart is in the right place but I don’t know where the hell your brain is.** _

“Oh, shit! The wreath!” Nicole hastily abandoned them both as she headed for the kitchen. For what the universe giveth in good news it always findeth a way to take.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Nicole called out uselessly into the empty room as smoke billowed from the oven setting off every smoke alarm in the apartment, causing an automatic, embarrassing and expensive call out to the fire department.

“Ahhh! Gimme a break! Fuck you Universe!”  
  


**SPRING  
** **Spirit of British Columbia Ferry  
** **FRIDAY**

  
Nicole loved the cold. Especially windy cold, where she could wrap up in a wind-breaker to protect her body from the worst of the sting, but let the air whip past her face and through her hair.

The Horseshoe bay to Duke Point ferry was perfect for such pursuits, cutting through the choppy waters of the Strait of Georgia on a two hour journey towards the unknown world of filming a reality television show on a country estate south of Nanaimo.

Nicole was one of the few people braving the outside world of the deck as the weather seemed to be rapidly deteriorating, but she didn’t care. The wind and sea spray kicking up from the port-side viewing deck were far more comforting companions for Nicole and her Mom than the noise of a few hundred other passengers chattering incessantly in the lounge.

She felt much calmer out here, where she could clutch her mom's urn under her arm without random people giving her funny looks and exacerbating the tremendous nervous tension she was already struggling to wrangle.

“We’re nearly there Mom. Tomorrow we’ll be in the tent together. I promise to find a spot on my workstation where you can gently perv at Paul.”

**_You better ‘Cole. That man could roll my pastry any day of the week!_ **

_Gross, Mom. Why are you like this?_

When the ferry berthed, she would finally meet the other bakers and find out more about the filming of the show. She should be nervous about that. About the reality of filming, about how her bakes would go, about properly meeting the show judges and presenters, but Nicole’s thoughts were filled with (Uhhhhhhh).

_What if she didn’t make it?_

_What if she did?_

_Or worse, what if her girlfriend made it?_

Nicole’s peripheral vision caught movement a few meters away. Towards the bow, another person leaned on the railing, a cell phone in hand, texting despite the water vapour in the air and the roil of the deck making the act a foolhardy one.

She cast her eyes towards the figure, capturing an image of tight pleather pants, tasseled leather jacket, sunglasses tipped up into frankly model-like hair and a ‘fuck you, this weather, the ferry and everything sailing in it’ attitude.

It was (cold).

If (cold) was on the ferry, then (Uhhhhhhh) probably hadn’t made it to the show.

Nicole had no idea if the nauseating drop in her stomach that happened next was due to relief, disappointment or the particularly low roil of the deck that made Nicole think sitting down might be an astute decision for near-future Nicole to make.

It didn’t matter, in the end. The part of the universe that hated Nicole Haught had brought her and (cold) together at an event horizon. To the outside observer, time slowed as a number of events cascaded irrevocably together.

The first act was so slight, Nicole wondered if she imagined it. (Cold) looked up from her phone and caught Nicole’s eye with a piercing stare full of icy blue-grey eyes, curled, disdainful lips and a scowl of recognition that culminated in a moderate raising of her head in a way that said ‘Yeah, I know you. Not sure I like what I see, but I don’t really care anyway so, whatever or something’.

Next, the deck tipped back again. It was only a small movement really, but enough for Nicole to feel the need to set her legs and tilt her body a little to remain comfortably upright. This all occurred as the door to the deck, directly behind Nicole burst open with a fury that shouldn’t have been possible with its weighted hinges.

“...except his GIRLFRIEND, YOU SKANK!”

A body followed the open door and as it stepped onto the wet deck, they pitched forward into the momentum of the ferry as it rolled. Their feet slipped out from under them causing an unstoppable tumble forward, face first into Nicole’s ass.

A hitched guffaw exploded from (cold) as her hands flew up to her face in shock.

The arms attached to the body wrapped around Nicole’s legs to catch themselves, the phone and the apparent skank on the other end of the call were lost to the waves below.

Nicole tried to catch her balance, grabbing at the railing with both hands. With a face in her ass and arms wrapped around her legs it was hard not to give in to self-preservation.

She was holding the railing with both hands.

Knuckles white as she gripped the cold metal like her life depended on it, Nicole looked on as her mother fell into the sea.

_You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me!_

The universe hates Nicole Haught.

The Universe hates Natalie Haught too.

*****///BING BONG\\\\\\*****

_Attention all passengers._

_Attention all passengers._

_The captain would like to advise that the viewing deck is now closed._

_The viewing deck is now closed._

_All idiots standing around outside in this weather should return to the passenger lounge immediately._

*****///BING BONG\\\\\\*****

“Oh my god! Are you okay? I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I literally head-butted you!”

Nicole was only vaguely aware of the voice of the body behind her as she felt the arms release from her thighs but she hadn’t reached the point of being able to function again just yet. Shock had led to localised paralysis. She could not let go of the railing to turn around. She could not tear her eyes away from the waves. She wasn’t even sure if she had taken a breath.

_I just dropped Mom into the sea…_

Nicole felt a quiet rage building, growing from a fizzing nausea that started low in her belly, rising like bile set on fire through her chest to her brain. She felt like a dragon gathering fuel to light an explosive flame of brimstone to be delivered on an anguished roaring breath.

She heard (cold) approach the body behind her, ignoring Nicole almost completely.

“Never mind the ginger giant. Baby girl, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Oh, I think I’ve skinned my knee.”

Nicole knew that voice. It was (Uhhhhhhh).

With the thought that she might be injured flooding her senses, Nicole felt the fire extinguish and the paralysis lift instantly. Instinct and her academy training to take action kicked in and she spun around, her full attention focused on helping (cold) lift (Uhhhhhhh) to her feet.

“Uh, that looks nasty. We should… we should get inside and find a first aid kit…” Nicole managed to get the request out through chattering teeth. She hoped the two women now staring at her just thought she was cold.

“Could you…” Nicole gestured towards the door, indicating for (cold) to open it. With an arm around (Uhhhhhhh)’s waist and her arm over her shoulder, Nicole guided a limping (Uhhhhhhh) inside.

“I’ll find the kit. You…” (cold) levelled a trademark stare at Nicole. “...look after my sister.”

_(Cold) is (Uhhhhhhh)’s sister._

_Not her girlfriend._

_You were right mom!_

_HOLY SHIT! I just dropped you in the sea!_

Feeling the nausea returning rapidly, Nicole steered Waverly into the passenger lounge, taking the first seat they could find. Nicole knelt in front of the woman she had spent the last three months not thinking about and began carefully inspecting the graze through torn, skin tight jeans.

_This is fine._

_Everything here is fine._

_I haven’t even introduced myself and here I am, touching (Uhhhhhhh)._

_Not talking. Just touching her skin because her face has touched my ass and I just dropped my Mom IN THE FREAKIN’ SEA!_

_HOLY SHIT SHE’S TALKING TO ME!_

_SAY SOMETHING YOU GREAT LESBIAN IDIOT!_

“Sorry, what?” Nicole shook her head slightly as she looked up into faintly amused hazel eyes.

“I said, you’re Nicole. Right?”

_(Uhhhhhhh) knows my name?_

“Uhhhhhhh yeah, I’m Nicole…” She sounded uncharacteristically unconfident in that knowledge. To be fair she had just dropped her mom into the sea. But she at least _looked_ confident, as her hand reached out to shake (Uhhhhhhh)’s, flashing a dimpled smile that (Uhhhhhhh) definitely noticed if the small blush creeping up her neck was anything to go by.

“...I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name but I recognise you. From auditions, right?”

“Yeah. Wynonna and I both auditioned for the show and we both got accepted. The producers said they liked our ‘dynamic’, whatever that means. We’re the first siblings to appear on Bake Off. Oh, and I’m Waverly, by the way. Waverly Earp”

Waverly lightly squeezed the hand she was still holding, giving it a little shake up and down before letting it drop slowly away.

_(Uhhhhhhh)’s name is Waverly..._

_Waverly._

“That’s such a nice name.” Nicole accidentally spoke aloud.

“Well, thank you Nicole. I’ve been meaning to introduce myself since regionals. I saw your focaccia being selected and handed over to Mary and Paul in the back. They seemed to like it. I knew you’d get through. Oh, I’m assuming you did, right? Otherwise bumping into you like this might be really…”

Nicole caught Waverly’s eye as her voice trailed away for a moment. Neither noticed that Nicole’s hands had not moved from Waverly’s legs, or that Waverly’s hands were now resting loosley on top of them.

“...awkward, um, but not as awkward as pitching face first into your ass out there. I’m so sorry about that!” Waverly seemed flustered as she remembered, clutching at Nicole’s hands now, as if begging for forgiveness.

“I don't feel awkward.”

_Liar._

“Not at all.”

_Liar._

“I’m glad my ass was available to break your fall.” Nicole’s ability to appear confident, calm and in control at all times was serving her well even if her brain was screaming the truth at her.

_I just dropped Mom in the sea!_

“Here, I got some stuff.” Wynonna burst the bubble of their sustained eye-contact, dropping down into the seat behind Waverly with an exaggerated huff. “The staff are all running around like demons battening down the hatches so I just stole this lot from behind reception.”

She dumped antiseptic wipes, a dozen gauze pads and a set of tweezers in Waverly’s lap.

“Can you fix my sister with this lot Gingernut?”

Waverly rolled her eyes making Nicole smile despite the whole dropping her mom in the sea thing.

“Your sister doesn’t need fixing. And it’s Nicole by the way, Nicole Haught."

"Nicole what!?"

"Haught. H. A. U. G. H. T."

Nicole took out the battered business card she'd been holding onto for three months and tried to hand it to Waverly but it was snatched away quickly by Wynonna.

" _Constable_ Nicole Haught?” Wynonna raised an eyebrow before throwing the card down into the supplies in her sister's lap. “There’s a joke in there just waiting to be made…”

“Trust me, I’ve heard them all.”

“Even the one about being a stable cun…”

“Wynonna!” Waverly’s voice, even pitched in a scandalised tone, sounded like Christmas to Nicole.

“You were right baby girl! She is a 'Haught' red-head!" Wynonna cackled as her sister’s face turned an adorable shade of rose apple, before hissing at the first touch of the antiseptic.

“Sorry, this won’t take long.” Nicole murmured, looking quickly away, distracting herself analysing the different pads Wynonna had purloined.

_Waverly thinks I’m hot?_

_I don’t care._

_I’m not into her_

_I dropped…_

_..._

_..._

_Waverly thinks I’m hot?_

“Okay. All better.” Nicole looked up with a small smile of satisfaction for a job well done. “Right, um. Can I get you anything? Something to eat? A drink?

“Shit, yes. Momma needs me some whiskey! You’re buying, Red Label.”

Nicole kind of admired Wynonna’s commitment to calling her anything other than her actual name. Where Nicole’s tags stayed firmly private inside her own little parenthetical headcanon, it looked like Wynonna’s would always be on her tongue and straight out her mouth before her head got anywhere near it.

“No, I’m buying. It’s the least I can do.” Waverly handed her sister her cash card.

“Score!” Wynonna ran towards the bar, leaving Nicole alone with Waverly again. They shared an awkward silent smile before Waverly drew breath, perhaps to apologise again. But Nicole butted in before she could speak.

“So, can you tell me who the skank was?”

“Huh?”

“On the phone. The skank that turned you into an ass-seeking missile out there.”

Waverly laughed, apparently relaxing on hearing Nicole joke about it. “Oh! Yeah. Um, just small towns and the small dating pool. A friend found out their boyfriend was sleeping with a mutual friend sort of thing.”

“So you’re not the vengeful girlfriend out to take down the skanks of your small town then.” Nicole was fishing. She knew it, but she couldn’t seem to help it now she was alone again with (Uhhhhhhh). With _Waverly_.

“Um, no. The town is small enough to limit the straight dating pool but the rainbow one is practically non-existent.” Waverly’s blush mirrored Nicole’s own at her awkward confession.

_Waverly’ dates in the rainbow pool..._

_She thinks you’re hot..._

“Oh Shiznits!”

“Shiznits?”

Oh my god, that’s adorable. That can’t be adorable, right? She can’t be this freakin’ adorable Universe, this isn’t fair. I can’t...I’m... MARRIED!

But any guilt associated with the brief thought, stuttered and faded quickly the more Waverly talked and the more Nicole listened. “My phone! It went over the side.”

_My Mom went over the side..._

“You have insurance?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be fine. It’s hardly a catastrophe, is it.” Waverly smiled as if she always turned the good, the bad and the annoying things in life into sunshine flavoured lemonade.

Waverly, who thought she was hot and had bumped her into a railing where her Mom had tumbled into the sea.

Suddenly it all felt overwhelming.

Holding it together, not reacting, not giving voice to the hollowness and nausea rapidly growing within her. The roiling of the deck was not helping but she needed to walk it off, to do something, anything to let this feeling dissipate somehow. So she could feel functional again. Or at least continue to fake being functional.

“So I’m just gonna go make a quick phone call, maybe help your sister carry whatever she’s spending your money on.” She tried to smile warmly at Waverly but she was sure it didn’t meet her eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” The pure, unpitying kindness in Waverly’s eyes threatened to tear away the last of Nicole’s control.

_I dropped Mom in the sea..._

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Really. I’ll be right back, I promise. Nicole managed a smile but turned quickly away before she started having trouble breathing as the enormity of what had just happened began to swamp her.

She moved up and down the corridors in a daze, trying to find a spot - anywhere - where she might reasonably have a private conversation. Settling on an abandoned video games room, Nicole hit up the only number she had on speed dial.

It rang twice before an exasperated voice blasted into Nicole’s ear.

_“Nicole! What the hell are you playing at! The lawyers say you haven’t talked to them at all. This is not a mature way of dealing with your problems!”_

Shae had a right to be exasperated with her. Hell, she had a right to be damn right angry but all Nicole needed right now was to tell someone, to tell her wife; what had happened to her Mom.

“Shae…”

_“No! Nicole, I don’t want excuses, I want you to tell me you’ve read over the…”_

“I DROPPED MOM IN THE SEA!”

The sudden silence on the line cracked her composure finally and the first tear fell, tracing a path to her lips down the track of her nose.

“I dropped Mom in the sea. It was an accident. I’m on the ferry and… I dropped Mom in the SEA!”

 _“Oh, Nikki…”_ Nicole had always hated the nickname and hearing it in such a pitying tone, one that contrasted so starkly with the genuine concern laced through every word she’d just exchanged with Waverly Earp, even though she had no idea what she had done, morphed Nicole’s sorrow into a quick and flashing anger.

“Look, I just needed to tell someone, okay? So that the only other person on this stupid planet who might actually have a memory of Mom knows where she is. I’ll read the damn papers when I get back, I will, I just need… Ahhhh, fuck it. I have to go, Shae. Sorry for disturbing your afternoon.”

Nicole hung up on her as she heard her voice of protest leap out of the speaker. The nausea was back in full force.

**_Even I think she didn’t deserve that ‘Cole…_ **

_JESUS! MOM! What the fuck!? You couldn’t have let me know you’re still here earlier!_

**_I was having too much fun watching you fawn over a certain brunette. You really are a gay mess aren’t you._ **

_I dropped you in the sea! Mom, I’m so sorry!_

**_So you dropped an urn in the sea. It happens to us all every once in a while. You can’t get rid of me so easily._ **

_Mom…_

**_What! I always wanted to do deep sea diving. You know it was on my bucket list._ **

_And we did! I crossed it off when Shae and I took that trip last year. Right before we…_

**_Split up? Separated? Threw in the towel?_ **

_Mom. You know I never wanted to._

**_No. But Shae did. And right now you have a gorgeous brunette waiting to flirt with you…_ **

_No. Stop it. We aren’t having this conversation Mom._

**_But… you dropped me in the sea?_ **

_I KNOW! But I’m still not going to let you talk about Shae like…_

**_Like you just did on the phone?_ **

_Shiznits._

Her mothers’ laughter once again reverberated around her skull like a basketball trying to let physics decide if and when it was going to fall through the hoop.

**_Yes. Shiznits. I may dislike the woman but…_ **

_That was uncalled for. I know. I know._

Taking a deep breath, Nicole sent an apologetic text to Shae, asking for more time before closing her eyes and trying to calm her breathing. Maybe a text was a cop-out. But Shae hadn’t tried to call her back either.

The floor moved suddenly beneath her as the gentle roiling of the deck began to turn not so gentle. She reached out to steady herself, grabbing at a Star Trek themed pinball machine set on demo mode. The lights flickered ominously and the uplifting theme tune warped with the small power fluctuation.

_Um, are you there universe? It’s me, Nicole? I know you seem determined to take things away from me, but you already took my Mom. Twice. Can you, maybe, NOT SINK THE FRIGGIN FERRY!_

**_Oh don’t be so dramatic. Look, I’m going now. I need to check out my new digs seeing as I’m gonna be here for the rest of eternity._ **

_Now who’s being dramatic?_

**_Oooo look! Crabs!_ **

And just like that, Nicole felt her mom's presence ebb away and she was alone again, with only the still flickering lights for company.

She sat in silence for a few minutes more, waiting for a calming of her heart rate that never came. How could it, when the ferry was doing the world’s worst parody of Titanic? How could it when Waverly Earp was on the ferry travelling to be on Bake Off possibly for the next ten weeks of Nicole’s life?

How could it, now her mother was at the bottom of the sea?

*****///BING BONG\\\\\\*****

_Attention all passengers._

_Attention all passengers._

_BC Ferries offers complimentary sickness bags which staff are now distributing via a cart in the main passenger lounge._

_We would like to point out that bathroom facilities are located…_

_Actually, you know what?_

_There just aren’t enough bathrooms for everyone, so..._

_Buckle-up buttercups._

_This is gonna be a rough ride._

*****///BING BONG\\\\\\*****

After exiting the lee of Bowen Island, the open sea took the pitch and roil of the deck to new levels of ocean-induced nausea, so getting to know the Earp sisters had become a baptism of fire. Or rather, a baptism of disposing of Wynonna’s used sickbags, carefully holding her hair back and pretending none of it was actually happening.

Despite their own nausea, Nicole found herself inexplicably tag-teaming with Waverly to manage Wynonna’s increasing surliness. They shared shy smiles that communicated variations of ‘I’m so sorry about her’ and ‘Hey, it’s fine. Stuff happens’ on a loop that had Nicole reeling. Her mind wandered and wondered at the mess she found herself in. Both figurative and… not so figurative.

By the time the ferry berthed, Nicole was sure she had heard every expletive known to humankind coupled with every possible play on words generated by her hair, her job or her surname. To be fair, ‘Narcing Warden’ and ‘Ginger-snap-back’ had been new.

As had Wynonna’s irrepressible spirit.

“Hold my hair.” Wynonna pointed tiredly to the sink in the bathroom. “My lips… sink. Won’t take me to. Chunkytown.” Wynonna’s joke delivered between panted breaths had fallen flat with Waverly but had Nicole chuckling quietly to herself despite how ill she felt. How Wynonna found the will to keep trying to make light of everything was utterly beyond her.

Hours later, the ferry had finally berthed, and then the excruciatingly long process of disembarking hundreds of ill passengers had begun. Nicole felt as though the universe was laughing at her, by conspiring to ensure the three women were amongst the last cleared to leave. Exceptionally late, they shuffled towards their rendezvous point like the world's slowest zombies.

They were greeted by a man made of pure enthusiasm wearing a GB-CBO crew puffer jacket firmly zipped to his neck, who clutched a clipboard to his chest with white knuckles. He danced about nervously until relief washed over his features at the sight of them. Despite being mildly offended by his bright demeanour, Nicole instantly assigned him the tag (sweet).

“Oh, hi guys! Welcome to Nanaimo! I’m so sorry about the weather, are you alright? Here, sit, sit. My name is Robin. Robin Jett and I’m your liaison. I’ll sort out the collection of your bags and things. Jeremy? Would you mind helping me with that?”

A slight man in a similar puffer jacket to Robin’s offered a wave in greeting to the group. “‘Sup guys, I’m Jeremy. I’m a fellow baker, so I’m gonna be on the show too. We’ve been waiting for hours for you guys to arrive!”

Nicole had never seen delight die so fast in a man's eyes as she did in that moment. Apparently, seeing the pointed glares of three sea-sick and unamused women did that to a person.

“But you don’t care about that right now. Because you’re all seasick. And you just want me to stop talking. Okay! Cool, Yeah. Let’s go get those bags Robin!”

Nicole had assigned Jeremy the tag (earnest) before he had stopped talking.

Robin’s smile radiated through his eyes at Jeremy’s social fumbling. “Please, just relax for a minute and try and get your land legs back. Me and Jeremy have got this.”

Nicole caught Waverly’s eye as the pair walked away, sharing a knowing eyebrow raise. It was pretty clear Jeremy had caught a bad case of crushitus while the men had been waiting for the arrival of the Spirit of British Columbia. It was kind of adorable.

“Why is the floor still moving? I need everything to stay still.” Wynonna groaned as she lay across an entire bay of seats. “Waverly. Why have you turned into a leering dipshit?”

Nicole turned back to Wynonna quickly to see a random dude-bro leaning over the back of the seats, looking at Wynonna.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” Nicole challenged the stranger. He was all dirty blonde hair, teeth and embroidered jeans with an air of unearned confidence and false swagger. Nicole instantly labelled him (boring).

“Hi everyone! I’m Champ. Champ Hardy.” He smiled as if that should mean something to them. He mistook their quizzical glares as awe. “It’s okay, I get this a lot. I was the BCRA Saddle Bronc champion three years in a row.” The self-satisfied look he managed to set to his face was almost caricaturish.

“And you are?” (Boring) walked right up to Waverly, completely ignoring Nicole. Surprised by his brazenness, Nicole’s eyebrows raised, as did Wynonna’s. Apparently, they were in agreement. Champ was a douche canoe.

“Um, I’m Waverly. Nice to meet you Champ.”

_Oh, shit. Is she blushing?_

“Excellent. You’ve found Champ. That means we’re good to go.” Robin rolled up with Jeremy and all their bags piled high on a trolley.

“Wait, wait, wait. Just hold up a minute.” Wynonna sat up slowly, holding her middle finger up in an imitation of a pointer finger. “One. This walking cheese-helmet is on the show too?”

“What’s a cheese-helmet?” Champ asked with genuine and rather unexpected innocence.

“Uh, yeah. Champ and Jeremy arrived on the crossing before you. Most of the other bakers arrived yesterday or early this morning. Actually, you’re lucky because they cancelled the rest of the crossings after you left. I’m just so relieved you’re all here in one piece.”

“Which brings me to point two.” Wynonna piped up behind them. “Do I really have to move?”

“I’m sorry but yes. We have a bus outside to take us to Crofte Castle on the Gardner Estate. We’ve missed the welcoming dinner and afterparty but when we get there, I promise soft sheets, comfy beds and blissful rest.”

“Okay, fine.” Wynonna stood abruptly and nearly fell over. She pushed Nicole’s offered arm away with offence. “I’m not delicate, narc. I can walk on my own. Where’s this bus then? And how long before I can get off?”

They shuffled miserably after Robin, Champ and Jeremy out to the oldest, most decrepit bus Nicole had ever seen.

“What a piece of junk!” Wynonna yelled on sight of it, which just made Jeremy laugh. He stopped when he realised no one was laughing with him. He looked around at everyone else’s bemused stares. “Star Wars? Guys? Come on! That was hilarious!”

“So, does that make me Princess Leia?” Wynonna almost groaned the question while leaning heavily against the side of the bus. “I’m cool with that. She’s got a great ass. Like me.”

Oblivious to the stare he received in response, Jeremy contradicted her. “Nah, I see you more as a Lando Calrissian type. But I reckon Waverly could pull off the Chelsea bun hair though.”

“Pfft.” Wynonna dismissed him with a handwave. “That means I'm actually Luke Skywalker. Hero sibling of the hour.”

“You’re sisters?” Champ interjected. He had one foot on the steps of the bus but paused as that thought captured his attention. “That’s hot.”

“Oh my god.” Waverly muttered while Wynonna sneered at him in disgust.

Waverly changed the subject but unfortunately for Nicole, the Universe decided she was the best distraction. “Nicole, who would you be?”

_Don't say Han. Don't say Han. Don't say Han._

"Because it’s obviously Han Solo.” Waverly replied with a twinkle in her eye she really shouldn't have had the energy for. “Right?”

Nicole felt her cheeks light up like bonfire night. And through the flickering flame were Wynonna’s eyes, as (cold) as she had ever seen them. But before she could answer, Champ’s unwelcome voice refused to just shut up and die.

"Naw. That’s my role." He grinned as he jumped into the bus so no one saw if he heard the chorus of groans that were thrown his way.

“More like Greedo.” Nicole deflected, eager not to respond to Waverly in any way that might encourage her, despite how the way she was looking at her made her feel like the Universe was laughing.

"Just make sure you shoot first Hannnndjob." Wynonna replied.

"Children, behave." Waverly commented. "Let's follow Jar-Jar Hardy.”

"Ahhh, yes." Jeremy nodded at Waverly as if she were a wise sage. “Hard to understand and largely irrelevant to the story at hand. That’s exactly who Champ is.”

“The sooner we leave the sooner we arrive and we can sleep. I think that’s what I want to do most in this world" Waverly sighed as she spoke, the events of the day clearly catching up with her. Nicole felt the sigh in her very bones.

The day had really been rather a lot to deal with after all.

Needing a minute to breathe, Nicole hung back and helped their strange driver load the last of the bags into the hold despite her own barely managed illness. He was the owner of the oldest, most decrepit beard she had ever seen, matching the state of the bus perfectly. He was dubbed (Chewbacca troll) the instant she laid eyes on him. The thankless task earned herself a small smile of gratitude from Waverly through the window of the bus.

And how her heart skipped a beat when she saw it.

Fifteen minutes later, the Falcon turned into a tree lined avenue and passed through the large stone entrance to the Gardner Estate. In the distance, an impressive stone building rose five stories through its centre, walled with a crenellated parapet and turret proudly flying the flag of British Columbia. The faux twelfth century architecture gave way to an Elizabethan gabled manor house style in each of the east and west wings, all finished in exquisite Valdes sandstone and granite.

Peeking through gaps in the trees, Nicole caught glimpses in the dark of a beautiful stream winding through the lower grounds of the property, and every now and then, four white peaks flashed moonlight reflections of light like semaphore harbingers of an uncertain future.

It was all she saw of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off tent on her arrival, but it was enough to set her nerves jangling uncomfortably through her already nauseated stomach.

_Tomorrow, everything changes._

Nicole cast her eyes to the back of the bus, helpless as the tide against the moon. Her eyes caught Waverly’s instantly.

_Tomorrow, everything begins.  
  
_

**SUMMER  
** **The Homestead, Purgatory  
** **Broadcast of episode one, Cake Week  
** **THURSDAY**

  
“Come on, it’s about to start!”

Nicole called out to the group assembled at the Earp Homestead as Jeremy and Robin adjusted the angle of the projector beaming the pre-show adverts against the side of the barn.

The party they had organised to celebrate the broadcast of the first episode was in full swing but the others were huddled inside, sheltering from the sudden dip in temperature brought on by the setting sun, waiting for the bonfire to grow a little higher and a little warmer but Nicole’s heart was already warm enough knowing that they were here, together, at the moment when their lives would change forever.

_Fuck you universe! This is one thing you can’t take away from me!_

They had been able to enjoy nearly three months of relative anonymity since the show ended. But an hour from now, everything would be different. An hour from now, their lives would be public property and their social media would catch fire faster than the bonfire she now found herself staring into.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Nedley was the first to brave the elements, cutting in before Nicole’s thoughts could get too lost in the flames.

Nicole smiled at the man who had lived up to his tag and been a steadfast presence in her life both during her time in the tent and the weeks that followed.

“I was just thinking about how much I turned my life upside down over the last few months and how… tonight, everything changes again.”

“Well, some bakes are meant to be turned upside down. Some need to be left to cool in the air before trying to turn them out of the tin too.”

Nicole threw a side-eye at Nedley, wondering what he was getting at.

“So, I noticed Waverly’s not here.”

“No.” Nicole’s simple reply was swallowed by the roar of the flames as the bonfire seemed to finally take a stronger hold on its fuel.

“She swore she wasn’t going to watch the broadcasts under any circumstances and not even a Homestead rager and a sober Wynonna could change her mind. Speak of the devil.”

The front door swung open as Wynonna dramatically exited the Homestead, ill-fitting ‘Whisky soaked and reckless’ tee-shirt covered by a faux-fur coat Lady Gaga would be proud of.

“Come on baking nerds! Let’s get the shitshow started!”

As they got themselves comfy in deckchairs, backs to the fire, a moment’s silence descended while the opening scene unfolded. Mel and Sue were walking slowly in front of the tent before gradually revealing all the bakers, many of whom were now Nicole’s friends. Her family. It felt surreal to see them, to see herself, to see Waverly, larger than life projected up on the barn wall.

_Oh, helgenfleurginschnerginshit Mom..._

Everyone was silent for that brief opening moment and then all was noise as they celebrated their achievement and began the gentle ribbing that defined their camaraderie both on and off screen.

“Woooo!”

“Oh my god, why did I wear that shirt?”

“Jesus Haught, you’re even eye-banging my sister there!”

“What? I am NOT!”

_**“This week, on the Great British-Columbia Bake Off. Twelve new bakers…”** _

Sweeping shots of the Gardner estate cut quickly to individual candids, starting with Xavier Dolls in a tight fitting tracksuit flexing his shoulder muscles and neck.

_**“I’m ready for what the tent’s gonna throw at me. I can’t wait to get in there and show Mary and Paul what I’ve got.”** _

“Holy hell, Dolls. Five bucks says you’ve already broken the internet with that! I mean, not that I’m complaining about seeing a little of the junk in your trunk.” Wynonna winked lasciviously in his direction.

Dolls fished around in his back pocket and handed over a five dollar note to Wynonna with a silly grin on his face. “Not that little.”

Nicole looked down at her phone to confirm “Ewww. There’s already a hashtag: ‘CanIPlayInDollsHouse’.”

“And the next Bake Off hunk was born! Congratulations Dolls!” Jeremy toasted his beer in his direction as Robin whispered something in his ear that had him blushing so hard it could be seen even in the dancing light of the bonfire.

Next, Champ Hardy had his turn to tell the camera how excited and nervous he was even as his eyes practically beamed ambition back at the audience.

“Boo!” Shouted Wynonna, saying aloud what the others were probably thinking but were too polite to voice.

Nicole’s attention was drawn fully back to the screen as Wynonna and Waverly filled the frame, leaning on the stone bridge fording the stream outside the tent.

 _ **“The tent is the Thunderdome and I am Tina freakin’ Turner!”**_ Wynonna declared with confidence as Waverly rolled her eyes beside her.

_**“Please, you’re barely Mel Gibson…”** _

_**“Rude, sis. You may prefer the Fury Road Express but that’s no reason to malign my baking awesomeness. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”** _

_**“She’s terrified of Mary.”**_ Waverly leaned forward, as if confiding to the camera. Wynonna looked offended like only an older sister could before body checking Waverly, a loud ‘Ooof’ escaping from her younger sister as she sailed out of shot.

 _ **“Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing scares an Earp!”**_ The show then cut to an image of a clearly petrified Wynonna presenting a bake to a disappointed Mary before cutting to a medley of close-ups of some of the more exquisite bakes made over the course of the series.

_**“30 intense baking challenges…”** _

Nicole joined the others in a laugh at Wynonna’s expense as the medley continued through Mel’s narration.

_**“At least 50 baking related puns and innuendos...”** _

_**“Are these your lady fingers?”**_ Sue asked as she walked over to Wynonna.

_**“Hardly. You need to talk to Haught-to-trot over there. She’s the expert.”** _

Sue raised her eyes before comedy fast walking over towards Nicole’s station. _**“I hear you’re my sort of woman, Nicole.”** _Her tone may as well have been crafted from pure, molten innuendo.

 _ **“Oh, are those my fingers?”**_ Nicole, oblivious to the previous exchange reached out to grab the tray of cooling buns that Sue had retrieved from an empty station. The camera person had cleverly focussed on Waverly’s blushing face as Sue replied.

_**“I think that’s entirely up to you my love.”** _

“Oh. My God.” Nicole was peeking at the broadcast from behind her hands.

“Cheer up Nicole. Your Mom’s too dead to be embarrassed by you now.” Wynonna slapped her on the shoulder hard enough to wobble her deck chair but Nicole was already laughing even if Nedley looked unamused on her behalf.

“To be honest, she would’ve loved that and would never, ever stop giving me shit about it.”

_**“...and 100 obfuscated swear words…”** _

Nicole shared in the laughter as quick cuts of all the bakers letting a cuss word slip when they thought the camera wasn’t looking flashed over the barn. Each one delicately bleeped, it wasn’t hard to guess they were all variations of the word ‘Fuck’.

It was an excellent edit, showing Champ red-faced and belligerently shouting an elongated ‘fuck’ at a meringue, Jeremy quietly chanting ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck’, as icing leaked over his biscuits. It even had a short, succinct ‘fuck’ from Nedley as Sue looked down at his bench then back at his face with amused surprise.

Next was a close up shot of Nicole, eyes wide with horror.

_**“Bleep. Bleep. Bleeeeeeeeeep!”** _

Nicole was then looking away towards Wynonna’s workstation, the camera zooming quickly, focus now directly onto Wynonna who replied _**“Bleep?”**_

“Oh, no! They used that! Oh god!” Nicole was back to wanting to die of embarrassment but was quickly apoplectic with mirth alongside everyone else bar Wynonna, as the next shot was a supercut of at least 10 different bleeped ‘Fucks’ from Wynonna in rapid succession.

The last shot featured a nervous Waverly, wringing a tea towel in her hands while silently staring at her oven. Nicole slowly appeared in the shot on the other side of Waverly’s workstation. The edit made it seem like perfect comedic timing, as Nicole gently whispered;

_**“What is it?”** _

Waverly paused, looked directly into Nicole’s eyes and whispered an un-bleeped _**“Fudgenuggets”**_ back at her.

“To fudgenuggets!” Dolls declared, smiling at the group as they all raised their glasses, for Waverly, for absent friends and for themselves.

Wynonna leaned over as far as she could and whispered to Nicole. “Everything’s about to change. You ready Haught-potato?”

“Nope. You?”

“Pffffft…” Wynonna sat back in her chair. “Hell, no.”

_**“Welcome to this year’s Great British-Columbia Bake Off.”** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate it? You hate it don’t you. Here, put on this Santa hat...


	2. Stand By Your Manacotti (by Tamale Wynette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicole meets the other bakers and tries to pretend the whole Waverly thing isn’t happening. Also, #Assgate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the memory of @wannabefireman’s patience for my grammar crimes.

“

Sometimes

it's hard

to be a woman

“

**CAKE WEEK EXT. BAKE OFF TENT**  
Nicole is interviewed not far from the tent. We can see the plastic windows and bunting strung around the marquee gently fluttering in the breeze of the day. Nicole squints slightly as if the sun in her eyes is bothering her.

**NICOLE**  
(Brow furrowed. Lips pulled tight enough to show dimples)  
I think that was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. I mean, I’ve seen the show. I watched every episode I could with my Mom. But… The intensity of the scrutiny. Having so many eyes on you, watching every move you make? Yeah.. that was a little... Intense. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid in my entire life. And I’ve sat through an all-male local theatre production of Pitch Perfect. Twice.

**EXT. STONE BRIDGE**  
Waverly leans on the stone wall of a quaint old fashioned bridge that fords the Crofte stream which winds its way through the grounds, not far from the Bake Off Tent. It’s Waverly’s favourite spot to be interviewed in because the stone is cool to the touch and overhanging trees help dissipate the heat of the sun.

**WAVERLY  
** Look. My hands are still shaking. That was so, so, so difficult but… I’m so happy they liked what I made. I was… having a lot of trouble feeling like I belonged here but Nicole… she really calmed me down and now… Now I’ve baked for Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry. And they LIKED it! I’m actually looking forward to the Showstopper tomorrow.

**EXT. TIERED GARDENS**  
Wynonna sits on the edge of a wall on the lowest of the tiered gardens. Nearby are the concrete steps that lead all the way back up to the Castle. The gabled roof can just be seen in the top of the shot and it looks for all the world like heavenly beings were looking down, ready to pass judgement on mortals below.

**WYNONNA**  
(Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly)  
I sucked.

There is a distinct pause where the camera operators seem to wait for her to elaborate but she just stares off into the middle distance for so long, the silence becomes uncomfortable.

But I didn’t set anything on fire so… I’m winning.

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**SPRING**   
**Gardner Estate, Crofte Castle**   
**SATURDAY**

Nicole woke in a strange bed in a strange room to the strange sound of what turned out to be a softshell training suit gently rustling in and out of the bathroom. It had been forever since she had shared a space with another human and it took her a minute to orient herself.

“CJ? You better not have pissed in the bath again!”

Her hotel room mate, Xavier Dolls, leaned out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his hand. The bedroom was dark so Nicole could only guess what kind of expression he was sporting as the bathroom light silhouetted his imposing physique.

“One. I’m not CJ. Two. I promise I haven’t pissed in the bath.”

"Oh, shit! Dolls. Sorry. Bit disorientated.”

“Uh huh. CJ your partner?”

“My cat. My wife only pisses in the shower.” Nicole called out as he retreated back to the bathroom with a small snort Nicole decided must pass for a laugh in Dolls’ world.

“TMI Haught.”

“I’m kidding. Mostly.”

“Right.” He called back in an unconvinced tone before apologising. “Hey, sorry if I woke you. You feeling any better?”

“Yeah. A little. I think. The floor’s supposed to be moving, right?” Crashing through the door late last night after the ferry ride from Hell with Waverly and Wynonna freakin’ Earp had not been the best impression to make on her new roommate. She had made a beeline for the bathroom, finally succumbing to her own illness and gracing Dolls’ ears with the unique sound of the Haught Porcelain Orchestra.

Nicole looked over at the clock which read 5.15am. “I should be up by now anyway. I usually run in the morning.” Nicole sat up bleary eyed as Dolls returned, grabbing his headphones from beside his bed.

She was pleased her instincts from last night had correctly pegged him as a fitness freak. Dolls had an air of order and routine about him that had Nicole suspecting a stint in the armed forces. She and Dolls were going to get along just fine.

“You going for a run?”

Dolls nodded in affirmation. “Feel free to join me. Despite outward appearances, I do actually enjoy company.”

Nicole laughed. “I might just do that Dolls. Tomorrow?”

“You’re on Haught. Catch you at breakfast. And drink lots of water. I don’t want to see dehydration in the tent, got it?”

“Yes sir!” Nicole mock saluted him which drew a small smile from him as he closed the door quietly behind him.

Throwing back the covers, Nicole bumbled her way sleepily through the opulently furnished room to the shower. She stood, letting the water wash away yesterday’s travel while her mind beat out a cacophony of troubles, each one clamouring for her attention.

Today she would meet the rest of her fellow bakers and have to compete with them in the Bake Off tent. She would have to bake on camera in front of four of Canada’s most popular celebrities and she would have to do it all without her Mom.

Because of Waverly Earp.

Dropping her Mom in the sea thanks to the butt-seeking-missile of Waverly Earp, the woman previously known only by Nicole’s nickname tag (Uhhhhhhh), had been the weirdest experience of her life. She should be mad as all hell that her Mom’s urn would not be taking pride of place on her workstation today, but she just wasn’t.

Nicole found her lack of animosity towards Waverly intensely annoying. Nicole found Waverly intensely annoying.

_**No you don’t.** _

“Oh great. 50 bajillion fathoms under the sea and you’re still in my ear Mom!”

Nicole sighed as she reluctantly switched off the shower. “And now I’m talking to myself. This is great progress.” Her sarcastic tone sounded hollow in the tiled bathroom.

She took a long look in the mirror noting the tiredness in her eyes, the slight slump in her shoulders. “Is hearing the memory of my mother’s unique personality the secret 8th and three quarters stage of grief?”

_**Even in the wizarding world it’s not good to be hearing things Nic. But I’m a part of you now. It’s not that easy to get rid of me.** _

Dressing quickly, Nicole resolved to get out of the Castle for a walk around the grounds. Fresh air and movement would help her with the last vestiges of her sea-sickness and with any luck, she would be able to push any thoughts of Waverly Earp as deep as her mother’s lost urn.

She failed in exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

That was how long it took Nicole to grab a jacket and find her way to the grounds behind the castle where the Gardner Estate was laid out almost as far as the eye could see. A series of small tiered lawn spaces led down to three lower fields where in the distance, the four points of the Bake-off tent could just be seen poking above the trees.

Nicole let out a quiet ‘Whoa’ as she stopped, overawed by the sight of the tent. She was so distracted she missed the small form rising from behind a stone wall, giving her the fright of her life as it spoke to her.

“On a scale of one to five, how much have your nerves increased since seeing it?”

“Jesus! Waverly!”

Waverly Earp was up and outside doing Yoga before dawn, wearing tight-fitting, marbled Yoga pants and a tank top that revealed the straps of her bra on her shoulders because of course she was.

_**Chins are for closing your mouth not flapping in the wind.** _

“I’m sorry…” Waverly laughed. “Never thought I’d be able to sneak up on a cop. Don’t you have cop ‘spider-senses’ or something?”

Nicole didn’t reply immediately, choosing instead to point lazily down the slope towards the tent.

“A scale of one to five, Waverly? Seeing that, I’m up to at least 11 already. It’s terrifying!”

“It sure is…” Waverly’s voice trailed away as they both turned their gaze toward the tent. They were silent for a minute, each lost in their own world of worry before Waverly turned to observe Nicole for a few moments more.

She reached out a hand and Nicole was broken from her reverie by a simple touch to her arm “Hey. Where’d you go?” Waverly inquired.

_**Oh, she’s observant ‘Cole. You won’t be able to hide much from her!** _

Nicole found herself smiling despite her Mom's interruption. “Nowhere really. Just thinking about my Mom. She loved the Bake Off.”

Nicole had no idea why she had let that slip. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about her Mom. Anyone other than Shae. But observant, kind-hearted Waverly seemed to catch on immediately to the past tense in Nicole’s words. Her hand rubbed Nicole’s arm for just a fraction of a second but the simple gesture spoke volumes.

“I think mine would have too. Huh. Maybe she does? Wynonna tells me she used to bake for us all the time at the Homestead but I don’t remember. She left when I was four.”

“Waverly...” Nicole felt her heart tug, like it was being dragged down by the weight of an anchor. An anchor made of legal papers buried in a book under her coffee table at home. Its rode made of iron link chain chafed Nicole, pulling taught uncomfortably as Waverly’s innate sunshine dipped behind dark storm clouds, her eyes brimming with unshed rain.

“Hey, it’s fine. Ancient history.” It clearly wasn’t fine. Nicole turned then, throwing her legs over the small stone wall so she sat beside her. She offered the shelter of her arm to Waverly, instinctively using touch rather than empty promises that everything would be alright. Waverly accepted it without hesitation.

“I’m sorry. It’s just. Seeing the tent. Knowing everything I do is going to be recorded, and judged. I’ve got all my emotions sitting right about here.” Waverly’s hand patted over her heart. “Nicole, I spent all of last night worrying about the show. I don’t think I belong here.” Her hands moved, tucking themselves away in the severest arm fold Nicole had ever seen. She looked like she was trying to fold herself away, to take up the least amount of space possible. Nicole kept her arm right where it belonged.

“I sort of feel like I'm about to fall off a cliff. A cliff made of tiered celebration cakes and there’s only under-proved bread dough to catch me at the soggy bottom.”

Nicole smiled at the use of the infamous Bake Off phrase. “You don’t need to worry about soggy bottoms.” She said with all the confidence she could muster.

“I don’t?” Waverly’s voice sounded small, still unsure.

“No. Because when you step off that cliff you’re going to fly.”

There was a pause as Waverly turned in her shelter of Nicole’s arm, an incredulous look passing over her face. “How do you do that?” She spoke almost with wonder.

“Do what?”

“Sound so in control all the time.”

“It’s just a magic trick. Internally I’m all over the place.”

“Yeah, right…”

“I mean it! Besides, you’ve already fallen into the soggy bottom, really…” Nicole wiggled her butt on the stone wall as Waverly let out an honest to goodness guffaw. “And even if you did fall again, remember: It's only cake.” Nicole squeezed her arm around Waverly’s shoulder, allowing her head to tip and touch Waverly’s for a fraction of a second.

“That’s so true. In the end, it’s only cake.” Waverly confidently declared as she beamed at Nicole. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Nicole let her arm slide away, suddenly conscious of how much she was touching Waverly, and how close they were sitting. “Anytime Waves. You can, ah, always talk to me. If you, um, if you need.” Nicole’s voice had taken on a softness that was actually beginning to annoy her.

_**Can I say something? I have something to say.** _

Nicole heard the distinct tone of her Mother speaking through an ‘I know everything’ grin.

_Are you still here? Shouldn’t you be at the bottom of the sea or something?_

Before Waverly had the chance to reply to Nicole’s offer, another unwelcome voice pierced the pre-dawn air.

“Well look at all the not-yoga happening here.” Wynonna loudly exited the castle.

“Does she have a habit of popping up unexpectedly everywhere?” Nicole whispered to Waverly, who grinned in response.

“Unfortunately, it is her super-power. But also, not so unexpected.” Waverly pointed to the pair of Yoga mats on the lawn.

“Wait, Wynonna does Yoga?”

“Wynonna does ‘humoring me’. But she also works as a mental health advocate and she thinks she should be able to at least pretend to practice what she preaches, which usually means she doesn’t do the full routine and brings whiskey to skull instead of sticking to the breathing patterns. It’s her version of self-care.”

“Hard core.” Nicole raised her eyebrows as she tried and failed to imagine Wynonna at work.

“You’re late!” Waverly called accusingly out to her sister as she made her way over. Wynonna wore a matching pair of yoga pants paired with a ridiculously long and oversized basketball shirt. Nicole had no idea how Wynonna expected to be able to work out in it.

“I had to take a dump the size of Champ Hardy’s ego. Sue me.” She looked up at Nicole with an accusing stare. “Why’re you up at the ass-crack of dawn?”

“I just came out to admire the view.”

“Oh, I bet you did…” Wynonna’s eyes narrowed as Waverly loudly cleared her throat and moved away from them both to roll up her mat.

“Well, I already finished my routine so you can’t avoid showing us both how crap your sun salutations are.”

“Hey! I can salute the sun. In fact, the sun should be saluting me!”

Leaning back against the stone wall again, Nicole fell into easy conversation with Waverly, with occasional mild, teasing interjections commenting on Wynonna’s half-assed yoga technique.

As she brought herself back up to a standing position from a particularly poor attempt to touch her toes, Wynonna snorted before pointing towards the hedged border of the Italian garden.

“Holy shit. I didn’t sign up for NCIS Nanaimo.”

“What?”

“Manky-moustache guy. Pretty sure he’s law, like you.” Wynonna’s eyes narrowed as if she was trying to uncover a fossil of a memory deep within her brain.

“Nedley! You made it” Nicole called him over with a friendly wave, offering a hug of welcome which Nedley accepted a little shyly. “We were in the same group at regionals. His Sourdough is exquisite.”

“Awwww, well now. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands these days. I’m glad to see you made it too kid.” Nedley smiled at Nicole raising an eyebrow at her in knowing recognition as she Introduced Waverly.

“This is Waverly and Wynonna Earp.” Waverly shook Nedley’s hand but Wynonna left him hanging as she moved into a downward dog, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with him.

Nedley’s eyes squinted for a minute. “Wynonna Earp. Hey, do I know you?”

“Nope. Not at all. I’ve never spent any time in the Kootenay’s” was her too quick reply.

“And stop looking at my ass, Red.”

“I'm not looking at your ass, Wynonna. Despite the fact that you practically just shoved it in my face.”

“Why not? This is top shelf ass! I can feel someone staring at my ass. Nedley?”

“No.” Came the quiet yet firm reply.

“Well I’m afraid that might be me.” A new voice materialised from the french doors of the breakfast room. It seemed to belong to a walking, talking, wild west cosplay artist.

Wynonna’s downward dog flopped into a puddle of puppy. She went down hard, and stayed down.

“Doc?”

“I am. The one and only John Henry Holliday. But as you so rightly say, most people just call me Doc.” He honest to goodness took off his hat to introduce himself to the group before getting down on one knee to further address the prone form on the lawn.

“Can I be of assistance to you Wynonna?”

“No. You’ve done quite enough already ‘Doc’” Wynonna kept her face planted into the mat but raised her hands to provide hanging air quotes around the utterance of his name. “

You two know each other?” Waverly looked just as stunned by the stranger as everyone else.

“This is the asshole who nearly made me miss my call up during regionals.”

“Well, I can’t say that you were complaining of the distraction I was offering at the time…”

_Oh my god, he’s actually twirling his moustache while he smirks._

“Uh! Not another word.” Wynonna reluctantly accepted Doc’s hand in a struggle to sit up. She looked around to see Doc, Waverly, Nedley, and Nicole all staring at her.

“Well aren’t we all just one big happy family.” Wynonna declared as the sun finally breached the horizon, flooding the estate with bright sunlight. It bounced off the pointed roof of the tent and lit up the sandstone of the castle like a fairytale made tangible. A small bell announcing breakfast service cut through the silence that had befallen them as they stood taking in the scene.

“Alright, let’s go meet the rest of the Hoi Polloi” Wynonna broke the moment, finally accepting Doc’s proffered hand up.

As Waverly began rolling up the mats, she noticed Nicole’s confused expression “She spent some time in Greece. Every now and then something random pops out of her mouth. I often act as her translator.” “

You speak Greek?” Nicole was impressed by her answer.

“I’m multilingual actually. I speak English, French, Spanish and Latin, a little Greek and ancient Sumerian and I’m also fluent in ‘Wynonna’.”

Wynonna began mumbling unintelligibly to illustrate the point as she flipped her sister the bird.

**_You are so screwed Nicole! You could never resist the smart ones!_ **

_I am not having this conversation with you. I can’t like Waverly Earp like…’that’._

**_Girl, there is a distinct connection between your brains and wallpaper paste._ **

_Cut the snark Mom. There is only one Sophia Petrillo and it ain’t you._

**_My advanced age and your innate vulnerability to my snark begs to differ._ **

“I’m just gonna run these inside. I’ll catch you later Nicole?” Waverly was looking at her questioningly as she walked backwards towards the castle with the rolled up yoga mats.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. See you soon.” Nicole smiled as Waverly seemed to turn a nice shade of pink before disappearing inside.

Dawdling behind the others, Nicole nearly didn’t hear Nedley proclaim. “You finally talked to her, huh?”

“What?” She turned and laughed at the odd expression on Nedley’s face. “Yeah, we met on the ferry yesterday, uh…”

“So it hasn’t helped then…”

“Helped with what, sir?”

Nedley didn’t say anything in reply. He just shook his head slightly and went inside, leaving Nicole standing in the light of the new dawn, utterly perplexed.

(↼_↼) (⇀_⇀)

That few moments of hesitation cost Nicole dearly. By the time she made her way to breakfast her only choices for table mates were a space between Champ and Nedley or Doc and an older woman she hadn’t met yet. Unfortunately, Nicole’s desire to avoid the boy-man wherever possible caused her to choose poorly.

Now, Nicole knew she would take stilted, awkward conversation with Champ and even thinly veiled aggression from Wynonna over the car crash of a conversation she was having with Bunny Loblaw.

Dressed immaculately in apparently designer clothing and expensive accessories, Bunny carried herself with a sense of haughty indignation that combined with her passive aggressive conversational tone had quickly led Nicole to dub her (phobe). She wasn’t sure which one she was yet. Probably all of them.

Her mother’s opinion was a little more honest.

_**(bitch)** _

“So, Nicole. Tell me a little about yourself. Are you married? Do you have children?” Bunny’s opening question led directly to Assumption Town via Hetero Road.

“I am married, but no children unfortunately Bunny. My wife and I haven’t really discussed it. She’s a Doctor in the city and I work in law enforcement. But I’d love to have children one day.” Nicole offered the information in a good-natured tone as if she didn’t already know Bunny’s poor little mind had completely blown trying to assimilate the words she heard with her preconceptions.

“Oh? What field does your husband specialise in? My nephew is studying to be an orthodontist.” She said proudly. Nicole could see Doc trying to eat his own smirk from the corner of her eye.

“I don’t have a husband Bunny.”

“Didn’t you say you were married?”

“Yes, I am married.” Bunny was clearly not computing.

“But…”

“Because I’m a lesbian, Bunny.” She spoke as if explaining basic concepts to a child. “And so is my wife.”

Nicole saw the exact moment it clicked for her because she didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust from her face.

“Oh, well, what about you Kate. What field do you work in?”

Mary Katherine Horony-Cummings, another fellow baker Nicole had met for the first time that morning, had been silent all through the conversation but looked as though she had been barely holding back from sniping at Bunny. She poured fuel on the fire with her answer. “I’m a Tarot card reader. I live in a travelling community…” but she didn’t get to finish as Bunny suddenly interrupted.

“I’m so sorry, will you excuse me for a moment? I just need to visit the bathroom.” She got up hastily and walked abruptly from the room.

“Oh my god. Is she for real?” Nicole couldn’t believe someone like Bunny had made it into Bake Off.

“Unfortunately, I do believe she is absolutely one hundred percent, for real.” Doc replied with a steely tone to his voice. “You were all so late last night that you missed dinner with the rest of these fine folks but Mrs Loblaw was unable to hide her contempt, particularly for Mister Ambrose 'Fish' Dickenson and and his husband over there…”

Doc pointed at two men further down their table. They were a handsome pair enthusiastically trying to convince their two children to eat some fruit with their breakfast “...but also with young Xavier and the charming Miss Kate.”

Doc smiled at the woman seated opposite him, with the same twinkle in his eye that he had flashed at Wynonna.

Kate leaned in to the table to whisper conspiratorially. “And, I’m fairly sure I heard her call Jeremy ‘Isis’ when she was talking to ‘Captain MAGA’ this morning.” Kate rolled her eyes towards Champ Hardy at the table behind them. Nicole couldn’t help but notice that Waverly had filled the spot beside him. He was sitting far too close to her to be accidental.

Nicole narrowed her eyes in disgust. “Eww.”

“I’m sure we’ve all dealt with worse than the Bunny and Champs of the world.” Kate offered.

“But should we have to?” Nicole offered in resignation.

“No you should not, Miss Haught. And you won’t if I have any say in the matter.”

Nicole smiled at the odd man. He seemed wedded to his old-world, cowboy speech pattern but she couldn’t imagine him any other way. He was who he was, unashamedly, nothing but ‘Doc’ Holliday.

“Thanks Doc, but I can hold my own. Maybe we could all look out for Jeremy though?” Nicole nodded her head toward the other table where Jeremy sat looking awkward without Robin to occupy his attention. “He’s an adorable dork and I’d hate for him to have to sit through a conversation like that.” “You have my word, Nicole.” Doc held his hat over his heart.

“And mine too.” Kate offered genuinely.

Waverly chose that moment to turn and look behind her, perhaps conscious of eyes turned towards her table. Nicole smiled as their eyes met, completely unable to hide the strange joy she felt as Waverly’s smile grew.

She became all too conscious of the knowing look Doc was sharing with Kate.

**_Everyone knows Nicole._ **

_Knows what Mom?_

**_You’re impossible_ **

_You’re incorrigible._

Doc couldn’t help indulge his curiosity. “So you’re married to a Doctor, Nicole? Is she as big of a fan of the Bake Off as we all undoubtedly are?”

Nicole felt her heart rate quicken at the question. Its anchor chain thrashed and pulled as if it had a life of its own. The movement pulled so tightly at her heart as it pounded in her chest, it was almost violent, as if the chain caged a monster she was about to let out into the world. Nicole nearly choked on her own spit with the pain of it.

“Uhhhhhhh… No, Shae hated the show, but um… we’ve actually been separated for a while now.” Nicole looked up into understanding faces but she couldn’t help but interpret them as pitying. She felt gravity drop through her stomach as she spoke. “Um, sorry. I just hadn’t actually said it out loud to anyone else before.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the chain fell silent, dropping to the ground like sails without wind. The pressure eased in a way that Nicole had not felt around the words ‘wife’ and ‘marriage’ for a very long time. It only served to make her more afraid.

“I am sorry, I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.” Nicole didn’t let Doc finish his apology.

“Hey, it’s okay. I hoped for a long time that we would work it out, but um. There are divorce papers waiting for me at home so...” She fired a quick, guilty look at Waverly who was still looking at her, with eyes filled with questioning concern. “I think I need some air too. Maybe I’ll bump into Bunny in the hall and I can tell her about my honeymoon in Vegas?” She tried to laugh it off but she could tell the others were worried for her.

The room was suddenly too small and filled with too many voices.

“I’ll be fine guys. I’ll see you outside.”

Nicole rose from her seat, and walked away without another word.

..·ヾ(。＞＜)シ

Nicole didn’t go far. As soon as the crisp air of the morning hit her lungs at the front entrance of the castle, she felt her breath begin to return to normal and the need to keep running dissipated as soon as it arrived.

So she tucked herself into the eaves of the porte-cochère, outside the main entrance. It was a sheltered spot where she could watch the comings and goings of staff and guests without being obtrusive. The cool air had helped calm her nerves, bringing her back to an even keel by calming any further disturbing thoughts about the state of her marriage.

She was soon reminded how much the universe loves fucking around with her life.

Her quietude was broken by the arrival of the ‘Falcon’. The (Chewbacca troll) driver alighted from the bus, wearing the same rough gardners clothes and dirty red beanie as the night before.

“Where’s my wife! Where’s Monique?” the troll addressed her brusquely, as if she would know where all the wives in the universe were.

“Uh, sorry dude. I don’t know your wife.” The strange man stared at her blankly for a moment before returning to the bus, sitting behind the wheel mumbling away to himself about being owed a wife.

_**That’s you in five years. ‘Where’s my wife? Where’s Shae?’** _

Her mother’s imitation of (Chewbacca troll) would have been amusing if Nicole didn’t feel like she had been standing next to a cartoon gong after it had been struck.

_Oh… fucking hell. It’s true isn’t it? I’m a bitter old troll constantly chasing after something long ago broken and lost._

**_Well I didn’t want to be the one to say it._ **

_But you did say it Mom! You… You’ve been saying it for months._

Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as if they could block out the damning truth.

Sounds hit her ears, quiet and distant cries of tiny people upset at having to leave. She peered through the small arrow slit window in the stone and watched Levi depart with the kids in a rental car, leaving a teary eyed Fish to wander off to the nearby gardens for his own moment of solitude.

**_What if that was you in five years?_ **

_Mom. That’s not fair._

_**Life isn’t fair Nicole. What are you trying to hold on to?** _

_That! Exactly that! A life. A future. A… family._

**_But you didn’t have that with Shae._ **

_No. I didn’t._

_Mom?_

_I’m afraid._

**_Of what?_ **

_I don’t know._

Robin burst through the main doors to the Castle with a jarring suddenness. He cast his eyes around, panicked as he searched for something he wasn’t finding.

“Oh, hey Nicole.” he said distractedly before disappearing as suddenly as he arrived.

Nicole blinked into the ensuing silence.

“Was that Monique?!” The driver called to her loudly from his seat.

“No, dude! You need to face the truth! Monique’s gone, okay? She left! You need to let her go!”

Nicole slapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from talking.

“She left? She was only going to the farmers market!” (Chewbacca troll) stomped off the bus and began to walk away just as Robin burst back through the doors.

“Where is he going?” He asked Nicole, who still stood with her hands over her mouth. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“To find my wife!” the troll roared behind him before disappearing into the gardens.

“Oh. Shit. Shit, um. I don’t suppose you have your HT licence?” Robin asked her with a gentle, hopeful lilt to his clearly under stress voice. “We need to leave in like, twenty minutes and the last baker hasn’t even arrived, and… and… oh wait! Here she is! Mattie! I was just about to send out a search party!”

Robin greeted a serious looking woman with long, partially braided hair, she looked like she spent long hours outside and worked hard at whatever she put her mind to.

“Great Gaia, Robin. You said 7am. It’s 7am. I am here, as requested.” “

Yes! Perfectly on time. How are you? Did you catch the bad weather yesterday? We didn’t see you at the castle...” Robin trailed off as Mattie simply stared at him as if he was a mouse she couldn’t decide was worthy of preying upon.

“No, I sailed in this morning once the storm passed and moored at the boatshed. Like I said, I’ll be staying on board the Hephaestus while I’m here. This is non-negotiable.”

“Yes, yes! Of course. Whatever makes you the most comfortable, Mattie. We need to be leaving very soon but there should be time to eat breakfast…”

“No, thank-you Robin. I’ve already eaten. I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Great! Okay, I’ll just round up the rest of the bakers and magic up a new bus driver from nowhere. Easy. Piece of cake! Huh, a baking joke! Today is awesome. I love my job. Okay, so Nicole? Nicole, this is Mattie Pearley. Mattie - Nicole Haught.” With the brief introduction out of the way Robin scurried away.

“Why do you look like the universe has played a bad joke on you.” Mattie asked her in lieu of simply saying hello.

“That would be because it has, Mattie. Nice to meet you.”

Spared temporarily from her worries, Nicole spent the next ten minutes having a thoroughly engaging and completely distracting conversation with Mattie, discovering that she was a blacksmith from Sooke further round the Vancouver Island coast. Although the tagging system automatically assigned her the label (hard), Nicole decided she liked this no-nonsense woman. She was forthright about her expectations and needs, which Nicole had nothing but respect for. By the end of their conversation, Nicole had changed her tag to (tempered). Eventually, the rest of the bakers made their way out to the porte-cochère, prompting Mattie to disengage from conversing with Nicole.

“Which of you is Randy Nedley?” Mattie asked.

“That’d be me.” Nedley raised his hand and introduced himself properly. Mattie handed over a small wrapped package.

“As ordered. I usually work with much larger pieces so this was a good experiment for me. Also, free of charge. No arguments.” Nicole watched as Nedley drew breath to do exactly that and she willed him not to test Mattie’s resolve. Before she could see the result, Robin burst back through the doors with the sort of manic excitement only someone under extreme pressure to deliver to a deadline could muster.

“Hi again everyone! I’m so happy you’re all here. It’s just a short trip down the hill to the bottom field where we’ll do a quick welcome and orientation but if everything goes well, we will be filming in half an hour. Welcome to the Bake Off everyone!”

“Yeeeah!” Champ loudly proclaimed. “Let’s get this bus a-rollin’”

“Oh, um, slight catch, we’re all going to walk instead…”

Bunny let out a scandalised breath. “Mr Jett. I will not walk all the way down that hill. I have weak ankles, and…”

“She’s got weak something alright.” Nicole heard Wynonna mutter behind her.

“Robin, it’s ok. I can drive the bus. I think.” Nicole knew she was frowning which didn’t exactly make her look particularly qualified but she knew she needed to do something with her fear by actually doing something that frightened her.

“You can drive heavy vehicles?” Waverly whispered behind her.

“Yeah, in theory I can drive lots of things. It’s part of the training at the academy.”

“Like… prison trucks.” Wynonna asked with a somewhat accusatory tone, at the same time as Waverly asked “Tanks?”

“Yes, and no, I don’t think so Waves. But busses and maybe some light armoured vehicles? It’s worth a shot right?”

That was how Nicole Haught found herself driving the Millenium Falcon down the hill towards the Bake Off tent on the first day of filming the new series.

Through what felt like the sheer force of her will, Nicole drove slowly along the road lined with all the production crew who clapped as they pulled up to the tent where Paul, Mary, Sue and Mel were standing waiting to welcome them formally into the Bake Off family.

“Holy shit, we ain’t in Kamloops anymore Dorothy…” Wynonna muttered, verbalising for the rest of the silent bakers what they were all thinking now the bus had come to a stop. Nicole turned in the driver’s seat, her eyes searching for Waverly’s a few seats behind. When she found them, they were filled with a slight panic, the nervous tension clearly winning despite Wynonna pulling her into a bear hug.

Nicole’s anchor chain twitched, pulling tightly again around her heart at Waverly’s forced smile.

Catching and holding Waverly’s eye, Nicole mouthed the words ‘it’s only cake’ at her, earning the biggest smile she’d ever seen. It felt like achievement personified to make Waverly smile like that. Nicole felt her breath be taken away.

If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t the first time Waverly had stolen it.

(O_O;)

“Today Bakers, the lovely judges would love you to make that classic baked declaration of luuuurve, a chocolate cake.”

“But not just any old chocolate cake. This has to be chocolate on steroids. Chocolate on top of chocolate on top of chocolate. Did I say chocolate?”

“Yes you did Sue.”

“Good, just checking. Bakers! You need to use at least two different flavours of chocolate, glaze your cake in a chocolate finish, add at least two chocolate decorations and then smother your cake in a beautifully finished chocolate collar.”

“So an easy start for you all then. You have three hours to complete this challenge.”

“On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“BAAAAKE!”

Nicole quickly got over the embarrassment to her stalled start to the signature challenge. Sue’s handy intervention and the reality of filming her first introduction with Mary and Paul had pulled her into an extreme focus.

Throughout the bake, the noise of the crew, Wynonna’s carping from behind and Waverly’s delightful humming became background noise, a soundtrack to her supreme concentration that saw her collared chocolate cake come off with barely a hitch with five minutes to spare.

From the two sponges emerging from the oven with a perfectly even bake, to the acetate removal from the chocolate collar everything bar the mirror glaze had run as smoothly as her practice bakes at home. The glaze was easily re-done and Nicole was proud of what she had managed to produce.

The judgements were filmed immediately afterwards and Nicole felt like she had no time to breathe, let alone check in with Waverly or the other bakers.

_It’s only cake, it’s only cake, it’s only cake..._

Nicole chanted her own mantra internally as Mary and Paul worked their way through the other bakers, passing judgement with unmatched seriousness.

“Absolutely delightful. I would never have guessed that the cake was gluten free.” Mary’s pronouncement earned her one of Waverly’s high beam smiles which faltered imperceptibly at Paul’s verdict.

“It is a beautiful cake, but I’m not convinced about vegan chocolate. I’m pleased you didn’t use it for the whole thing but as an experiment? Yeah, these roses are fine. It just doesn’t really add anything other than novelty to it. Thank you Waverly.”

Next, Doc was experiencing a howler.

“Erm, remind me what this is supposed to be again?” Paul prompted Doc to explain the vaguely cake shaped blob on the table.

“Well, see, I had a little problem with…”

“Everything?” Paul asked, causing a ripple of gentle laughter through the tent.

“Indeed I did. I’m just hoping it tastes alright. Miss Mary, would you care to try my ‘upside-down-chocolate-horse-manure’ monstrosity of a cake?"

Nicole couldn’t quite see from her workstation but she would swear Mary was blushing as Doc pulled out his most mesmerising twinkly stare and grin. He really should patent that.

“You’re lucky my friend.” Paul admonished. “It tastes great. Flavour - beautiful. Presentation - needs work.”

Mary had yet to say anything. There was a distinct pause before she looked up, eyes twinkling with just as much flirtation as Docs. “I love it. I would eat all day, every day if I could. But we will need to see a little more care and attention from your next bakes.” She raised an eyebrow at him, as if challenging him to rise to the occasion.

“Oh, Mary. I can not wait to show you what I can do.”

Nicole chanced a look to her left and right. Waverly had her hand over her mouth trying to hide her smile. Wynonna was staring with either horror or confusion. Probably both.

Next, Jeremy more than proved himself worthy of being in the tent, earning a Hollywood handshake for his tricky white chocolate collar and checkerboard cake. Nedley, Dolls and Mattie also earned high praise, while Champ, Kate and Bunny managed somewhere in the middle, with aspects not quite coming together to reach the level of perfection the judges were looking for.

Poor Fish had a similar nightmare to Doc with his collar not setting in the time allotted, leaving his cake rather unimpressively naked. Next, Wynonna also stumbled, with Paul declaring “Yeah, it’s not quite baked in the middle. It’s a shame really because the taste of that is top shelf Wynonna.”

Finally, it was Nicole’s turn. Paul cut through the immaculate collar she’d just spent three hours working on, taking a slice for himself and one for Mary. Using a fork, he smushed it, gathering a little of the glaze and some of the white chocolate buttercream. Mary was quick with her praise.

“This is an excellent cake, Nicole. The buttercream is a little sweet for my tastes but everything together works beautifully.”

_**Mary loves your cake! Squeee!** _

Her mother’s voice was loud in her mind, but Nicole’s smile didn’t falter.

“I hate this. It’s only week one, but…” Paul leaned back and frowned at Nicole before reluctantly reaching out a hand, offering a second ‘Hollywood handshake’ for the segment. “I can not fault that in any way. It really shouldn’t work, but the flavour combination, the texture, everything just works perfectly. Well done Nicole. Well done.”

Nicole was stunned. So much so that she didn’t say anything in reply.

The director called out the lunch break and the bakers gathered together with little hugs and words of congratulations. Nicole though, was still a little shell-shocked. She hung back from the others, remaining in the tent for a few minutes after they left while the crew began to secure their equipment.

She wasn’t sure why she sought solitude because all it brought her were regrets.

Regrets that her mother wasn’t around to actually see that handshake, that Shae wouldn’t care about it even if she was still interested in being Nicole’s wife. That there was a space on her workstation where she had imagined a metal pineapple might have sat.

**_When did you become such a melancholic lesbian?_ **

_That’s not a thing Mom. And somewhere between your premature death and your all-expenses paid, permanent scuba-diving trip._

**_So between three years ago and yesterday. Cool. But snap out of it because here comes..._ **

“Hey…” Waverly walked back into the tent, her soft voice once again cutting through Nicole’s reverie.

_How does she do that?_

Waverly leaned over the worktop and briefly squeezed Nicole’s hand. It was warm, comforting and entirely unexpected. “Are you okay?” Waverly’s voice trailed away as her eyes searched Nicole’s for a satisfactory answer.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about Mom again. She loved Paul Hollywood. Right now it’s like she’s yelling in my head telling me not to wash my hand ever again.”

_**And you won’t! You’ve been blessed by (silverback) himself!** _

Waverly chuckled. “Well, you can tell the memory of your Mom that isn’t very hygienic. I’m quite invested in these hands you know.” Waverly had reached out for them again but quickly appeared flustered. “I mean, um in the baking. Baking hygienically and. Yeah.”

“Shit, fuck, tittie sprinkles” Mel popped up suddenly, cursing into the ether as she quietly counselled them both. “I think the secondary unit is filming you guys right now.”

“What? Really?”

“Yup. Can’t really blame them. It is their job, but I felt it was only fair to give you a warning. I mean, it’s only your first day!” Mel looked accusingly over at the crew who at least looked embarrassed to have been caught out.

“We weren't doing anything…”

“I know. And you know. But one thing we can’t control is how they’ll edit all this later to create the tension and the drama. They tend to show little things that people latch onto later especially in social media. You can’t control that, but you can be careful what you feed it while the cameras are rolling, and you should always assume the cameras are rolling in here. I mean, I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” Mel held her hands up in defence of her words.

“It’s just, me and Sue take our roles as mother hens quite seriously. You just let us know if anything or anyone is giving you a hard time and we’ll step in, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks Mel. But there’s really nothing to…” Nicole looked back to Waverly, noticing her sudden withdrawal as she backed up to her own workbench, her arms tucking themselves away again, making her look small and withdrawn into herself. Nicole desperately wanted to reach back out for those warm and comforting hands, to reciprocate the grounding Waverly had afforded her.

Mel walked away, encouraging them to hurry to the lunch buffet before all the best food was taken, but they just stood on opposite sides of a workbench until they were alone.

“Are you okay?” Nicole was desperate for her answer. Desperate for it to be yes.

“I will be. That was just…”

“A bit more than just cake.” “

Yeah.” Waverly was looking at the ground, hands hidden in that damn arm fold. “I really enjoyed that, the baking I mean. This is going to be such a great experience. But I don’t think I’ll be able to watch it. I don’t want to know, to see how they decide to turn us into characters for the whole country to love or loathe…”

“Hmmm.” There wasn’t really anything to say. Nicole moved around the station to her side, offering the same shoulder hug she had given so freely that morning. But this time, it felt different, more meaningful somehow. More… dangerous.

_I can care about her without… you know._

_Oh._

Fuck.

_**Finally.** _

(⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙)

  
The technical challenge came and went and Nicole barely noticed it, much like the lunch break in the hours before. She was in a daze, all jumbled thoughts and white noise feelings rendering her barely functional.

The pared down recipe for a Battenberg was simple enough to follow, her brain filling in the blanks almost on autopilot. She was grateful there were no baker interviews for this section and Mel and Sue spent time winding up the others as if sensing today wasn’t the day to get the best out of Nicole.

She only interacted with the crew when she needed to, letting them know when she was going to open the oven was one of the rules. Everything had to be filmed. Everything. They were always going to be on camera. It would all be on television in a few months. Everyone would see.

_Everyone had been seeing, all day._

_Shae would see._

_See what exactly?_

Nicole’s thoughts tumbled on through the evening and into dinner. The only mercy was her mother’s silence. For the universe was not feeling mighty merciful that evening judging by the presence of the blank wall of Champ Hardy at Nicole’s table.

He seemed utterly disinterested in idle chatter, preferring to concentrate on annihilating his food, which suited Nicole just fine in her current mood as it allowed Nicole an opportunity to indulge in people watching.

Sitting next to her, Wynonna had barely spoken to her all evening, mainly due to the completely unsubtle flirting she was engaging in with Doc. In the moments where his attention was drawn in by something Jeremy asked, Wynonna’s eyes wandered over to the opposite table.

_Huh. She’s totally into Dolls too. And Dolls knows it._ Nicole tried to hold onto her smirk but didn’t completely hide it. “Spill it Haught-sauce.” Wynonna elbowed her in the ribs.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Nicole tried to deflect but Wynonna appeared in a playful mood.

“I knew you were into me.” She declared confidently.

She spluttered an incredulous response as Champ looked up from his meal for the first time that evening.

“What? In your dreams Earp.”

“It’s my ass. I told you, it’s top shelf Haught-pants…”

“Wynonna, it is indeed top-shelf. I can openly admit that as a straight-up fact. Okay. That was a poor choice of words. But I’m afraid that you are nowhere near my type of woman.” Nicole looked over at Wynonna who was sporting a curious look. Like her banter wasn’t exactly as playful as Nicole had first thought.

“And what type of woman is your type, Haught?” Her eyes had bled into full (cold) mode.

Nicole’s body betrayed her as wild horses couldn’t have stopped her eyes from seeking out Waverly’s across the room as Wynonna spoke.

Champ loudly dropped his knife to his plate. The sharp rattle of it pierced the atmosphere, well, like a knife. He loudly chewed his last mouthful and belched, oblivious to the attention he’d drawn to himself as he stared in open disgust at Nicole.

“I’ve heard tell that a hearty belch is as great an honour to the culinary skills of a chef as a Michelin star…” Doc’s icy stare, every bit as withering as the one directed at Champ by Wynonna, seemed to freeze him on the spot. “But then again, my friends tend towards the wastrel, vagabond and charlatan, so what would I know of the matter.”

Champ had frozen with a furrow in his forehead as wide as the Grand Canyon as he tried to unpick Doc’s distinctive speech pattern, trying to work out if he’d been insulted or not.

“Right…” His brain seemed to decide to reach no conclusion.

Wynonna had fully turned in her seat like she was ready to pounce on him on Nicole’s behalf.

“What is your problem rodeo-clown?”

“Nothin’. There’s no problem here Wynonna. I didn’t say nothin’.” His tone oozed boyish innocence while his face leaked hostility.

Nicole, for her part, just stared at him. Unwilling to escalate or take the bait he was clearly laying out but also unwilling to back down, letting her face tell him she knew exactly how he felt about her and that she felt equally poorly of him.

She reached out under the table and gently rested her hand on Wynonna’s leg, hoping she would get it. She wanted to tell her to let it go, that she didn’t need or want an intervention. Thankfully, Wynonna accepted the hint and she sank back into her chair.

Champ broke the tension at their table, standing abruptly before addressing the room.

“I don’t know about Michelle stars or whatnot but that was a mighty fine meal. I think a nice walk in the gardens would be just the thing. Would anyone care to join me?” He cast a grin towards Nicole and Wynonna who starred impassively back at him.

“Waverly. Perhaps you’d enjoy my company?” He held out his hand as if he was some sort of animated Disney prince guaranteed to get his princess because his designer had blessed him with floppy hair and perfect teeth.

Waverly looked at the proffered hand like it was a celery stick made of uranium.

“Um, no thanks Champ. I’m good here. Have a nice time.”

Nicole was never more grateful for the ability to school her features as a cop. She used every body language trick in the book not to let a grin break out across her face as Waverly turned back to continue talking to Fish, Nedley and Dolls.

Wynonna was not so polite. Her cackle rose from deep in the back of her throat even as she was jostled on both sides by both Nicole and Doc trying to subtly shoulder check her into polite submission.

“I will join you Mister James.” Bunny spoke as she stood dramatically, like she was taking some sort of ‘I am Sparticus’ political stance.

They walked from the room together as Wynonna redoubled her laugh. “Have a nice time you two. Don’t do anything I would probably do!” Wynonna called after them.

“Awww. What a sweet couple.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “Speaking of sweet…” Wynonna reached under the table and picked up Nicole’s hand which was still resting on her leg. She lifted it quickly to her lips, giving the knuckles a kiss before Nicole ripped it away.

“Ewww, Earp spit!” She declared with a laugh.

“Come on now Haughty-toity. Just admit you’re into me.”

“Never.”

The banter between them only escalated through the evening. Waxing and waning as the bakers retired to the room next door - a former library converted into a bar with the world’s worst name - Li-BAR-y - lighting up the back wall in alternating pink and blue neon.

Its existence delighted both Earp sisters but for very different reasons. While Waverly perused the locked cabinets filled with expensive looking ancient tomes, Wynonna propped up the bar, perusing the locked cabinets filled with expensive looking booze. Gradually, all the bakers peeled away, one by one retiring to bed, even the irrepressible Earp sisters.

Nicole felt compelled to stay, despite her bone-deep tiredness. Eventually she sat alone with an empty glass and a full brain turning her thoughts endlessly over and over. Second guessing, recommitting, changing her mind and starting the whole process over again.

_What is marriage?_

_What is... future?_

_What is… Waverly?_

**_What is… the point of this endless argument._ **

_Mom. Not now._

_**Why?** _

_Mom… just. I’m tired, okay._

_**And I’m discovering the sensation of ‘oh this urn isn’t as air-tight as advertised and now I remember what sand up my a-hole feels like’.** _

Nicole let out an annoyed sigh and pulled out her phone, desperate for a distraction strong enough to silence her mother’s teasing laughter ringing through her skull.

“Haught.”

Nicole startled awake, surprised to find the lights dimmed and drool pooling attractively on the table her head was resting on.

_Did I fall asleep?_

_**Anyway, as I was saying, sand in your ass is...** _

_Mom! OH MY GOD!_

**_Alright fine. I’ll go. But talk to this one. He’s a good._ **

Still slightly stupefied, Nicole was surprised to find she hadn’t made it out of the library. Even more surprised to see Dolls gently shaking her awake.

“What? I’m here. It’s… what?”

“It’s 1am. Imagine my surprise when I wake up thirsty and find you haven’t made it back to your room. I figure, alright. Maybe Haught’s gotten lucky. I could see that happening.” He gave her an epic side eye as she scoffed at him. “Then I come down here for some water and what do I find? A passed out Nicole Haught lulled asleep by what? Harry Potter fanfic? He gestured to the phone in her hand, long since dead.

“Har. Har. No I was just…”

“Hermione/Ginny?”

“No.”

“Larry Stylinson?”

“No!”

“Explicitly rated?”

“DOLLS!” Nicole sighed. “I was reading Waverly’s food blog okay.” She let the silence draw out but could feel Dolls smiling at her in the dim light. “Don’t judge me.”

“I will judge you. I will judge you awesome, as expected.” Dolls managed with a laugh. Nicole could see curiosity rolling across his face, like he was deciding whether or not he really wanted to know the answer to the question he had on the tip of his tongue. “Out with it Dolls.”

“I guess, I was wondering. What’s eating you, Haught?” He frowned as if he regretted his choice of words. “I mean, we’ve only just met but… you seem off somehow. Sorry, I don’t want to presume it’s just. I’m not sure why I’m worried about you. Should I be worried?”

Nicole smiled at his concern. “I’m fine, Dolls, really. It’s just… Today was a lot, you know?” He nodded his head along like he agreed but Nicole could tell he needed more to assuage his concern. And for some reason, Nicole complied.

“And… Bunny and Champ are homophobic assholes, my mother’s dead but she llikes to criticise my decision making in my head all the damn time…”

_**Hey…** _

“...my wife left me months ago and wants a divorce and I just baked two cakes on camera which will be broadcast across the nation in three months and everyone won’t stop asking me how I feel about Waverly freakin’ Earp so nothing’s eating me, Dolls. Nothing at all!”

Her head flopped down into her arms as she sighed, regretting the last two drinks she’d had. “And, I may… I may have been drinking.” She peeked up at him through a curtain of her own hair and found him smiling at her. It was quite an odd sight.

“I’m fine Dolls. Or at least, I will be if I can keep my business, my business. You know what I mean?”

He paused for a moment, as he absorbed everything she’d inadvertently shared. “Fair enough. Hey, i’ll leave you alone with your thoughts.”

“No, that’s not... I like company too, Dolls. Despite outward appearances.” He smiled at the mirroring of their conversation from that morning.

“Well, okay then. But we should get some rest. I’m holding you to our run Haught.”

“Counting on it Dolls. You go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”

True to her word, Nicole only stayed in the Li-BAR-y for another few minutes, silently staring at the only unlocked book cabinet. It seemed to be filled with an eclectic collection of second hand books that included the first ten Baby-sitters Clubs, a dozen Mills & Boons and the complete works of Stephen King.

_I bet Waverly was disappointed._

_Waverly._

_(Uhhhhhhh)_

Nicole was physically and emotionally exhausted. Perhaps a little bit tipsy too, so the walls of her own denial that she had built up so assiduously over the last few months were wafer thin, practically see through as she left the Li-BAR-y and sloped up the grand oak staircase to the minstrel’s gallery connecting the two wings of the castle.

Looking up, she found herself captivated by the largest William Morris stained glass window panel she’d ever seen. Too ill to appreciate it last night, the outside lights in the gardens gave off just enough illumination in the dark to highlight the angelic figures, overgrown wisteria, cherry blossoms and apple tree motifs in the illustrations.

Nicole was instantly in love with it.

“I think It’s supposed to be the Garden of Eden, Before the fall.”

Enraptured by the view, Nicole was surprised by the sudden appearance of Waverly for the second time in a day. Tucked away beside the fire door to the west wing of the Castle, Waverly sat in a small banquette, knees drawn up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs.

“There’s a garden theme throughout the house actually. It’s supposed to represent abundance and prosperity but just comes across as ‘more money than sense’.”

“You don’t like it?” Nicole inquired, curious as to Waverly’s melancholy mood after how carefree she had seemed at dinner and eager to deflect her own surprise at finding Waverly hiding in the dark instead up tucked up in bed.

“I do like it actually. But it does all feel a little…” She seemed to be struggling for the right word.

“Fake?”

“Yeah, I guess so? Fake, but in a way that is trying too hard. I mean, it succeeds for the most part.” Waverly used her hands, indicating the full grandeur of the building as a whole. “Wynonna actually called it ‘baby Hogwarts’ last night but the castle is only 90 years old, so it can never truly be what it wants to be.” Waverly sighed.

“Which is?” Nicole prompted.

“Authentic. It’s like a fun-house mirror. The reflection can only ever be distorted truth. I guess that’s what all art is, in the end. Distorted half-truths carefully crafted by it’s maker. A poor reflection of something that isn’t even real. Like...an illusion.”

There was an undercurrent to Waverly, Nicole had noticed. Like something on her mind was pulling at her, tugging her under even as she desperately tried to stay above the water line. Nicole had seen it on the ferry the day before, a hint of it at yoga then in the tent earlier today and now, as she both talked about a window and didn’t talk about it all in the same sentence.

It felt entirely relatable and familiar to her, that look hidden behind Waverly’s eyes. Like there was something important to say but no language to express it, let alone define it outside of the context of her own mind.

Once again, Nicole felt her heart tug painfully against an anchor of a past that had once been her saviour. She was still tied so tight she couldn’t reach far enough to help keep Waverly afloat as well as herself. But that didn’t stop her from trying. The rode creaked under the pressure she exerted on it as she reached to keep Waverly afloat.

And she realised just how much she wanted to.

Her heartbeat increased its tempo, almost in frustration at Waverly’s answer and without warning, the chain confining it burst and sank as deeply under the sea as her mother’s urn. Suddenly free, Nicole’s emotions immediately took control, overriding her head as she spoke, unwilling to let Waverly’s words hang a moment longer. “

Well, whatever its origins, or aspirations, it is undeniably one thing.”

“What?” Waverly raised her eyes to Nicole's.

“Beautiful.”

There was a beat, a pause where Nicole could see Waverly absorbing the word, as if she was tasting it, assessing the flavour for truth.

“Authenticity doesn’t care about the eye of the beholder. And that’s what makes it beautiful. That’s what makes it genuine. That’s what makes it real. If it is what it is, or… you are who you are it literally doesn’t matter what other people see. Your own truth is the only one that matters.”

Waverly’s head suddenly dipped down behind her knees hiding her face entirely from Nicole. She moved then, taking a seat next to Waverly and putting her arm around her shoulders exactly as she already had twice before. This time, Waverly didn’t lean in. She stayed stock still as if trying to hide everything away in the fold of her body, leaving no secrets for Nicole’s arm to uncover with its gentle weight.

“Hey, are you okay?” Nicole asked, realising it had become a default conversation starter for them over the course of the day.

“No...” came a sniffed reply. “...you don’t get to ask me that.”

“Why?” Nicole asked softly, genuinely puzzled. Had she offended her? Was she crying?

“Because it’s my turn to ask you.”

“Bullshit, Waverly.”

“No, Bullshit Nicole.” She replied, quickly wiping her eyes. She turned and smiled at Nicole and performed a handbrake maneuver of conversational deflection of such sharp effectiveness it could have been branded with the surname ‘Haught’.

“Something happened yesterday, right? Something on the ferry right before I hit your ass with my face. You were as pale as a glacier. And today as well. This morning at breakfast, particularly. Something… I don’t know.”

Nicole found herself nodding and with the realisation she began shaking her head instead, trying to deny it in vain. “Waverly, I..”

“You don’t have to tell me. I just wanted to let you know that you could talk to me too. You know, um, if, if... if you wanted.” Waverly looking at everything around her except Nicole. “You told me this morning I could talk to you anytime so, I just mean, that goes both ways, okay?”

Nicole waited a beat before speaking, hoping to draw those sparkling hazel eyes to her own so (Uhhhhhhh) could see the sincerity in her own. “Waverly?”

It worked. Waverly’s gaze was dragged up into Nicole’s. “Thank you. You’re right. Something happened. Or rather, something is happening with me.”

Nicole could see a curious longing now in Waverly’s eyes. Like she was desperate to know more, to know everything about her. But the sunken anchor was still there. A hazard made of legalities and emotions that had to to be taken care of before Nicole could ever think about what might come next.

“I want so much to tell you all about it. But I can’t just yet. The timing. It’s all wrong.”

_Why did I say that? Is that what I meant?_

“Oh. Oh, okay. I get it.” There was a flicker of something in her gaze. Was it disappointment?

“But soon, okay. I promise. I have some things to sort out at home. Maybe next week, I can, um share a bit about that with you?” Nicole looked at Waverly again, hopeful that her words had dispelled any hint of lingering disappointment.

“I would like that. Something tells me you’re going to be very important to me Nicole. Very Important.” Waverly let go of her legs, unfolding herself from the banquette as she spoke. She finally leaned in to Nicole’s half embrace and placed a gentle kiss to her cheek, before moving to the firedoor.

“Good night Nicole.”

“Good night Waverly.”

Then, she was gone, leaving an imprint of her lips on Nicole’s cheek far heavier than a simple anchor. It was as heavy and as wondrous as a planet.

**SUMMER  
** **The Homestead, Purgatory  
** **Broadcast of episode one, Cake Week  
** **THURSDAY**

Jeremy’s projector set-up worked surprisingly well, casting the broadcast of the first episode of the Bake Off up against the Earp Homestead barn. Wynonna’s guests sat around the screening with a warm bonfire to their backs, plenty of booze and blankets warding off the new chill in the air signalling the bite of the oncoming autumn.

Nedley, Dolls, Fish, Jeremy and Robin had all made the journey and although they were absent a few friends, Nicole was happy they could experience this together, like they had experienced the filming together.

Nicole cringed and laughed in equal measure alongside her friends at the Signature Challenge collar cakes and Battenberg Technical Challenge. It was both the easiest thing, and the hardest thing to watch. She found herself flinching away every time she saw herself on screen, but drawn back in each time the camera focussed on a fellow baker. One in particular never failed to make her troubles fade into the background like chaff on the wind.

_Waverly…_

Her smile lit up the screen whenever she appeared and from what Nicole had seen so far on social media, she was already the darling of the show, racking up followers despite being relatively quiet with her own posts.

While they all refreshed their drinks and waited for the ad break between segments to finish, Nicole dared a peek at Twitter again. She knew her notifications were off the charts but it was still a little jarring to see just how many new followers she herself had.

**Hit me with your best short pastry**  
 _@BakinggggBroadsticks_  
 _Follows you_  
BREEEEEAAADDDD. It’s my literal jam.

**Cuntry Bundt Tin**  
 _@BakedOffMyTits_  
 _Follows you_  
Blunt Bundt for Bake Off Bunting. Opinions my own and I own all my opinions. They/She

**Peggy Choux**  
 _@peggychouxbakes_  
 _Follows you_  
I can’t feel blue, when I’m baking with choux

_There’s definitely a theme here..._

It was also a little jarring to see the shiny new verification tick next to her old handle. She beat down a now familiar feeling of regret, that she had not thought to change it before all this began. She hadn’t been on Twitter since she left home for the Academy and had failed to appreciate how her hastily created and really not very well thought out handle might one day embarrass her fully grown, adult, professional self. And now it would be associated with her ‘personal brand’ forevermore.

**Nicole Haught** ☑️  
 _@ColeCopperTop_  
Amateur baker. Professional loner. Community policing and my cat have my heart. Great British-Columbia Bake Off Contestant.

Nicole closed Twitter with a sigh, but quickly found her hands fidgeting for something to do. She unlocked her phone again and opened Instagram instead. Thankfully no one had found her burner account so she could still browse and follow in relative safety. However, she very soon regretted her restlessness.

_Oh god no. Why am I looking at this?_

“Back on the Potter fics Nicole?”

Nicole hid her jump of surprise behind a disgusted frown. “No, it’s worse than that, look.”

She turned her phone around for Dolls to see the rolling story play through on the screen, which had him quickly backing away.

“Holy hell, Haught! Put a content warning on that stuff before you go flashing it around!”

“What? What is it? Show me!” Wynonna demanded, snatching the phone from her friend's hand. “Oh, good lord, look who got an underwear modelling contract!” Wynonna watched the entire story play out as shot after shot of Champ Hardy in tight fitting underpants cycled through.

“Ew! Tell me you aren’t viewing that with your own profile Nicole.”

“Hell no! I aced the cyber-safety class at the academy. I’m using a stan of a stan account.”

“Oh, shit. Waverly ‘liked’ it.” “What!?” Nicole snatched the phone back from Wynonna and ignored the shit-eating grin on her face.

“She’s too nice for her own good. I thought she was going off social media?”

“No, she said she wouldn’t watch any of the broadcasts. I don’t think she mentioned social media. I think she kind of has to keep up some kind of presence, or at least keep her blog active because it’s forming the basis of the book.”

“How’s that going?” Dolls asked innocently beside her.

“I don’t know. She won’t talk to me about…”

“Yeah! Illusion Cakes! Jeremy called out enthusiastically, lifting an energy drink in the air with a giant grin plastered on his face. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment before Robin steadied him, guiding him back to his chair as the last advert finished. Jeremy took a final swig of the drink before apologising. “Sorry. I just really really like these! I like these a lot!”

Nicole was grateful for the distraction. She shut down her phone and determinedly ignored Wynonna’s knowing eyes as the final segment of Cake Week began broadcasting.

_**“Good Morning Bakers. Now, for your first Showstopper, the judges have decided to test your creativity and artistic flair. They would like you to create an illusion cake.** _

_**“As simple as that. It can be any kind of cake with any kind of flavouring it just has to convincingly fool us into thinking it is something it is not.”** _

_**“Yes, much like Mister Paul Hollywood here convincingly portrays the role of a handsome baking gorilla when we all know, he is in fact, a man.”** _

_**“Alright bakers. You have an illusory four hours to trick us into eating more cake than we can fathom. On your marks. Get set. bake!"** _

_Oh shit, here we go…_

Distracted finally from social media, Nicole found she couldn’t look away from the unfolding of Wynonna’s disastrous showstopper. Knowing what had happened in the tent that day, and how it had happened, it really was something to watch how the Bake Off editing team had strung out a five minute issue into a drama that unfolded slowly over the entire segment.

Having been there, she knew multiple bakers had had problems larger than Wynonna’s but the show had chosen to focus on her and Doc’s troubles with interpreting the complexities of the fancy ovens they were provided.

The show made several quick cuts to emphasise the urgency Wynonna was experiencing as she took her cake out of the oven and dumped the pan hastily on the workbench.

_**“I forgot to set my damn timer. I don’t know if it’s under-baked or over-baked or just… baked.”** _

The camera drew back its focus slightly to get the whole workbench and Wynonna with her hands on her hips in shot. It stayed there, still now, as both Wynonna and the audience watched the cake deflate in real time.

_**“It’s okay. I can fix this. I can fix it. I can cool it and I can fix it.”** _

_**“Yeah, that’s not shaped like a peach anymore…”** _

Nicole heard her own voice fall from Jeremy’s portable speakers. When she appeared in shot, the smugness on her face made her cringe.

_**“...that’s shaped like an...”** _

_**“Can it Haught.”** _

_**“Wynonna it’s an…”** _

_**“I am going to drop you like you’re Haught in a minute! Buzz off!”**_ The camera showed Nicole smiling as she raised her hands in defeat, walking back to her own station.

“Urgh, they made that look like I was laughing at you.”

“You were laughing at me.”

“Yeah, but not like that.” Nicole grabbed her phone and brought up the Bake Off hashtag on Twitter.

**Jona$$** @BakeOffStanFan * 4m  
Redheads are wild and everything but consider this a Bunny Loblaw stan account from this day forward. #GBCBO

**CleoClanton** @ClantonForFreedom * 4m  
This season should be called ‘skanks r’us.’ Especially that ginger bitch. She’s got baaaad written all over her. #GBCBO #BakingForFreedom!

**Malcolm Ramaker** @RamakersRamekins * 5m  
It’s only episode 1 and the rivalries have started already! I don’t trust smug redheads. Don’t forget you can get two Outlaw Ramekins on my etsy store right now. Link in bio! #GBCBO #RamekinsHalfOff

“Jesus. This is what Mel was talking about.” Her voice was faint but Wynonna heard it.

“Hey. We can write our own story. Let’s fix it before it catches fire. Actually. That’s a great idea. JEREMY!” Wynonna’s voice carried over the commentary, startling Jeremy.

“No, no, no, no, no. Whatever it is, just no. Your ideas should never be acted on. We talked about this Wynonna.”

“Get your Haught ass out of that damn chair.”

“What’s up Wynonna” Jeremy had made his way over to Wynonna who was now standing near the fire.

“Can you fiddle with my phone? Make it take a good shot of me and Haught next to the bonfire?”

“Ah, yeah. Wow. Are there two of you?” Jeremy’s eyes shone in the firelight so brightly Nicole could see exactly how crossed they were. He was so drunk, she began to worry he might stumble into the fire.

“Jeremy, can you do it or not?” Wynonna asked.

“Yeah, but you need to... move over this way... yep. That works.”

“Okay. Nicole. Do you trust me.”

“With my life Wynonna but you’re making me nerv…” Nicole didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Wynonna grabbed her by the front of her jacket and tipped her backwards towards the fire. Nicole’s heels dug into the scree on the ground as she pitched back, arms flailing.

“What the shit Wynonna!”

Just as quickly as she had done it, Wynonna pulled her back to safety.

“Did you get it Jeremy.”

“Yeah, I took a burst shot. Hey, they look pretty good!”

Wynonna scrolled through until she found a favourite. “Okay, one more shot Haught.”

“NO WAY! I've had it with you and fire Wynonna! Everywhere you go, it’s like a fire pit opens up beneath your feet and I'm DONE with all that!

“A normal one this time. Say ‘Selfies are moronic’!” She slung her arm around Nicole’s shoulders, smushing their cheeks together, then she unexpectedly turned and smush-kissed her cheek. “Right. That’ll do it.”

Wynonna began furiously typing on her phone, but she was calling back to Nicole before she could even form a question.

“Yo haughtpants! Check your Twitter.”

🤍 _Hit me with your best short pastry and Nice ProTITeroles liked_  
 **Wyno Whiskey** @WynoWhiskey * Just now  
Check out the latest on @ColeCopperTop vision! a.k.a. Ⓒ Ⓒ 👅 ✌🏻 ! Maybe she’ll think twice before laughing at my ass! 🔥

Nicole’s phone lit up with notifications as people responded with variations of laughter and health and safety warnings. But a second tweet soon followed, which moved the status of Nicole’s notifications from ‘mildly on fire’ to ‘full-scale blown-up’ as people began to focus more on Wynonna’s impromptu kiss than on the broadcast itself.

“What the fuck is this!”

“What?” Wynonna shrugged her shoulder in feigned innocence

“What do you mean, what.” She turned the phone so the others could see, even though they had no hope of reading the tiny text on her screen.

“See, it’s not so fun being laughed at, is it Miss ‘pleat in her khaki’s’?”

“You hashtagged this #GirlfriendGoals and #LoveThisBitch.”

“So?”

“So!? Waverly’s gonna kill me.”

“No she won’t.”

“You already have a ship name.” Jeremy declared as he typed rapidly on his phone, tone serious as if he was in mission control. “I can see several retweets calling you WynCole… I don’t get it though. That just sounds like Winkle.”

Robin spat out the mouthful of beer he’d just imbibed as even Nedley barked out a laugh.

“Oh my god. Fix it Wynonna.”

“What, why is winkle funny?”

“Because it’s British slang for PENIS you absolute… shit-ticket!”

“Well, now I know you’ve spent too much time with my sister.”

Nicole glared at Wynonna and was only mildly put at ease by her backing down.

“Fine.” She began furiously typing on her phone. “Happy now?”

🤍 _Cuntry Bundt Tin liked_  
 **Wyno Whiskey** @WynoWhiskey * Just now  
Why not Wynaught?

“Jesus, Wynonna. No. That’s not what I meant about fixing it.” Nicole ran her palms down her face.

“Oh. Shit. Um…” Nicole looked over as Wynonna started backing away. “I’ve just gotta take this call…”

“Is that Waverly!? Give me the phone Wynonna! Give it.”

“No way Haught-buns. I’m handling it. I will handle it.” She jumped in her truck and locked the doors leaving Nicole outside pounding on the window. She stopped, breath frosting in the air as she watched the pained expression on Wynonna’s face as she pulled the phone away from her ear. Nicole could hear Waverly’s voice tinnily screaming from the phone.

“Yeah. Okay, you got this, I’m just gonna leave you to it.” She grinned as she walked away back to the broadcast and her friends.

In Wynonna’s absence, a calm fell on the group as they watched the judgements and Nicole found herself inexorably drawn back to social media, watching the broadcast through the eyes of strangers across the world at the same time as all her friends gathered around her.

(·Θ·) (·Θ·) (·Θ·)

**Eleanor4578934** @DampfNUDEleanor * 12m  
What the hell is Doc doing? You can’t temper chocolate in a microwave!

**Good | Bad | UGALI** @EnnioMascarpone * 5m  
How did someone so pretty come up with something so clever? I mean Champ’s coil of rope and lasso is so good I honestly can’t quite compute that he made it.

**Waving at Waverly** @HettyTatenhill * 3m  
Have you SEEN @Earpshalott quietly working on that thing? When she first described it, I was like ‘no way is that gonna work’ but LOOK AT IT! I think I am in love. Shit. Is this my click moment?

**Eleanor4578934** @DampfNUDEleanor * Just now  
What. Is. Happening. To. Wynonnas. Cake.

(·Θ·) (·Θ·) (·Θ·)

_**“Oh Dear. What have we here Wynonna.”** _

_**“Oh, well, when I said I was making a peach illusion cake, I meant a peach emoji illusion cake, Paul”** _

_**“A peach emoji…”** _

_**“Yeah. A peach emoji.”** _

_**“Wynonna, that just looks like an… um… It’s even fuzzy like a... “**_ Paul was struggling to hold it together, much like the rest of the cast and crew that day.

_**“Yes, I’m interested in the fuzziness too. How on earth did you manage to achieve that textured look?”**_ Mary carried on obliviously.

_**“Mary, Mary. Do I need to explain what Peach emoji’s symbolise?”**_ Sue looked like she had gone to work and discovered it was Christmas.

_**"No. Peaches are well known as a symbol of vitality, youthful charm and sometimes purity…”**_ Mary’s voice trailed away as Paul had to turn away from the cameras at that point.

Behind her, Nicole heard the truck door open and close quietly, Wynonna returning to her deck chair looking like she’d just spent an uncomfortable hour in the principal's office.

“You missed #Assgate.” Nicole commented, pointedly ignoring the events of the last few minutes.

“Assgate?”

“Yep, that’s what Twitter’s calling your baking catastrophe.”

“Now I’m looking at your ass Wynonna. The whole country’s looking at your ass.” Nedley winked at her from his chair.

“As well they should! That is…”

“Top-shelf ass!” everyone called out in unison and Wynonna laughed along with them as she pulled out her phone again to send a few #Assgate tweets of her own. “

What’s this about Doc?” Wynonna asked Nicole as she scrolled through her notifications.

“They kind of made Assgate look like Doc’s fault because you spent all that time helping him understand his oven settings.”

“Well that’s bullshit.”

“The whole thing’s bullshit Wynonna. Why do you care?”

“Why do _you_ care, Haught-pants?”

Nicole had to think for a minute. She didn’t care about social media. Not really, but she was uncomfortable with how quickly and easily the truth was distorted.

“I don’t but… Have you seen Champ on here?” She waved her phone about. “And Bunny on there…” She pointed up at the broadcast on the barn.

“No one knows how shitty they really are. It just… doesn’t seem right.

“The whole thing is an illusion Haught. That’s all these people are seeing.” Wynonna tapped her phone against her knee. “The magicians are on stage and the tricks are performed all for their entertainment. But the days we spent there all together. That’s real. That’s what matters. Not this broadcast, how they frame us for the audience and certainly not what anonymous eggs on Twitter think either.”

She cast her eyes around at her friends. Dolls, stoic and intuitive, always ready to lend a hand or an ear no matter what he himself was suffering through. Fish, so loyal and dedicated to his family and yet so willing to share and bring others into his world. Jeremy and Robin, her sounding boards and encouragers. Nedley, her steadfast mentor. And Wynonna. The highly flammable thorn in her side laced with snark and infuriating incisiveness. Her friend. Her best friend.

Nicole swallowed down her reaction and instead listened to the crackle of the fire behind them. On the side of the barn, Waverly’s face smiled back at them as the judges marvelled at her Poutine Illusion cake.

“You’re right. It’s great to have everyone here to share this with us.”

“Nearly everyone.” Wynonna commented sadly, her boots kicking at the ground.

Nicole turned to Wynonna, nervous for her now they were at the denouement of the show.

“Have you heard from Doc lately?” She asked quietly.

“Nope. Last I heard, he’d taken up with Kate. I’m guessing that’s why she didn’t turn up.”

“Oh. Well, shit.” Nicole didn’t know what to do with that information. All she knew was that her friend deserved better.

“Pffft. She doesn't know what she’s missing.” Wynonna tried, and failed, to dismiss it as nothing.

“Neither does Doc.” Nicole offered quietly.

“Yeah, well. That’s why I have my casual thing with Dolls.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Nicole and tried to mime something with her fingers that Nicole could only assume was distinctly heterosexual.

“It’s really more of a…” Dolls piped up beside Nicole with his own elaborate hand gestures but all Nicole could see was a bad attempt at a shadow puppet rabbit.

“Ewww! Make it stop!” But she was laughing even as Wynonna tried to up the ante and involve her face in the performance.

_**“And our first star Baker is…. Waverly!”** _

The broadcast announcement only encouraged Wynonna more. “Would you get it if it was more…” Wynonna twisted her fingers together to make peace signs battling each other for dominance. “...because Waverly told me she likes it when...”

“Shut up! I swear to god!” Nicole tried to slap at Wynonna who cackled as she leaned away, but it didn’t stop Nicole from hearing Nedley sigh.

“Children, can we please just enjoy and celebrate Waverly’s achievement?” His raised eyebrow of fatherly admonishment pulled them both up, but didn’t stop Wynonna from poking her tongue out at her childishly.

“Oh, they kept this in. I didn’t realise…” Nedley’s cheeks turned pink as the broadcast focussed on his congratulatory hug for Waverly. As he got down from his stool, he held out the little parcel Mattie had given him earlier that day. He unwrapped it as the camera’s zoomed in to their faces.

_**“This is a little something I asked Mattie to make for us. It’s a Sheriff's star modelled on my own retired badge. It’s for whoever is awarded Starbaker. Next week Waverly can wear it and pass** **it on to whoever is next.”**_

_**“This is amazing! Thank you!”**_ Waverly gave him a huge hug and briefly spoke to Mattie before returning to her seat.

_**“Well, this makes the next task all the more heartbreaking. I have the horrible job of announcing which baker will not be joining us in the tent next week.”** _

The camera cut to shots of the three worst bakers that week. They all looked nervous. Wynonna, Doc, and Fish the latter jiggling with nervous energy.

_**“And that baker…”** _

The camera panned back to show all the bakers trying to hold it together as they waited for Mel’s pronouncement.

_**“...is…”** _

“You know, I'd forgotten how torturous they make this for viewers.” Wynonna commented. “Get on with it Mel!” In real time, it hadn’t taken this long to find out.

_**“...Doc. We’re so sorry to see you go.”** _

The broadcast cut to his final interview and Wynonna raised her drink “To Doc! May your moustache fall off your stupid face and every oven you touch fizzle and die.”

“To Doc!” The others raised their glasses, ignoring Wynonna’s words and the tear that escaped and ran down her face.

_**“You know, I am sad to go. I’ve met some truly remarkable people here. But sometimes the cards that fall into your hand cannot be played to your advantage. It has been an honor to be a guest here and to have baked for Mary and Paul. The honor of my life.”** _

“Stupid cowboy man with your stupid hat and stupid twinkly eyes…” Wynonna mumbled.

“Hey…” Nicole called out to her friend. “We got you, Earp.”

“Thanks Fam.” Wynonna replied quietly, her phone buzzing not so quietly in her pocket.

“Waverly again?” Nicole asked.

“Yeah. Probably just checking up on me. Hey…” Wynonna slapped Nicole’s leg, forcing eye contact before she answered the phone. “I got you too Haught. We all do.”

“Thanks Wynonna.” She smiled at her friend as she walked away. She got up from her seat and piled into a group hug with Dolls, Fish, Nedley, Jeremy and Robin.

“Only nine more weeks to go guys.” She squeezed them all just a little bit tighter.

“Same time next week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You: Is there any actual baking in this?  
> Me: Um, if I say ‘Yes’ will you keep reading this bullshit?


	3. Your Good Girl’s Gonna Go Battenberg (by Billie Jo Spearmints)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Universe laughs in Nicole’s face, Kate’s cards cause a stir and Jeremy regrets using white icing on his Signature biscuits.

_“_

_I'll even learn to like the taste of whisky  
_ _In fact, you'll hardly recognise your wife  
_ _I'll buy some brand new clothes  
_ _and dress up fancy  
_ _For my journey to the wilder side of life  
_ _Because your good girl's gonna go bad_

_“_

**BISCUIT WEEK**

**  
** **EXT.  
**Stone bridge fording Crofte Stream. The sunlight passing through the trees behind Waverly casts glittery waves of light across her as she speaks. 

**WAVERLY  
**(Folding her arms. Mildly annoyed.)

It feels pretty special to be wearing Randy’s Star baker badge. Although, I’m predicting I’ll be handing it off to someone else this week. Biscuits are really not my thing. They aren’t Wynonna’s either. She kept sniffing around the kitchen this week, trying to steal my ideas. We ended up having a huge argument when I caught her rifling through my recipes during a dinner party. Honestly. We had words. 

**EXT.  
**Edge of Bake Off tent field. Wynonna stands as far away from the tent as she can get while still having it technically in shot over her left shoulder. Over her right, the tall overgrown grass of the next field sways in the gentle breeze like natural tube men all waving in mockery at her.

 **WYNONNA  
**(Throwing hands in frustration.)

Well, I’m not gonna lie. I don’t know how my ass survived last week. I mean, it was a great ass, don’t get me wrong. Just peachy. I guess I did kinda half ass it. No. I ass and a halfed it. And this week? What the brisket is a biscuit? Is it an English thing? Do I have to say it like Helen Mirren? Bisskette? Buscut? See? Nobody knows.

 **EXT.  
**Jeremy stands directly in front of the Bake off tent. The plastic windows are rolled up to let the breeze in, and the hot air out. As he speaks Paul walks past the window, pauses as he listens and then backs away as Jeremy’s descriptions get increasingly technical.

 **JEREMY  
**(Excited)

Biscuits are essentially just dried cakes, which is why they go soft. They tend to absorb ambient moisture from the air as they age. It’s almost like the scientific process of deliquescence, which is fascinating by the way, except the biscuit rarely becomes a full solution. It mostly just turns back into cake again. It’s totally inedible in that state. Sorry. I just love biscuits!   
  


( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**SPRING  
** **Ferry Terminal: ‘Horseshoe Bae cafe’  
** **FRIDAY**

_She looks different..._

It was an odd thought to have on catching sight of your wife for the first time in months. She looked amazing. Of course she did. Because Shae always looked amazing. It was still different, watching her walk closer, a small, slightly hesitant smile forming on her lips.

 _No.. she doesn’t look different. I_ feel _different._

The nervous, curiously fizzy feeling that Nicole could only think to call ‘anxiety’, evaporated to nothing now that Shae was actually in front of her. It had been her constant companion all week, jangling her nerves and clouding her mind with ‘what if’s’ as she had finally read over the divorce documentation and added her signature next to her former wife’s.

“Shae… Hi.” She stood and enveloped her in a quick but warm hug. “Thank you for coming all the way out to the terminal. I’ve been pulling all sorts of crazy shifts since I got back.”

“Hey, I totally get the crazy shifts thing. It’s been similar for me at the hospital lately. Have you ordered anything?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind? Green tea okay?”

Shae smiled. “Yes, thanks. You’ll probably always know me better than I know myself.”

Nicole’s fingers stopped tapping. Suddenly, all the emotion of their break-up rushed to the surface, flushing her face and filling her eyes with unshed tears. She forced herself to look at Shae and was surprised to see her in a similar state. They leaned in, wrapping each other in tight arms, faces resting on shoulders as a few of the tears escaped to run down their faces. 

They stayed that way for several minutes, just holding each other, letting their physical proximity say the goodbyes their minds hadn’t been able to let their mouths say just yet. Their tea was delivered in respectful silence by the waitress as somehow their embrace grew a little tighter as they both sensed it was about to end.

It did end, suddenly and with a little embarrassment from them both. 

“God, I’m sorry about that.” Nicole wiped her eyes, frowning slightly in embarrassment.

“No, It’s okay. I think I needed it.”

“I’m still sorry. Jesus, Shae. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve ignored you over the last few months. It’s absolutely inexcusable, and…” She knew she was about to head full tilt into a ramble but it couldn’t be helped. Until Shae reached over and took her hand.

“No. Stop. Just listen to me for a second. Please?”

Nicole stopped, and for once, just listened.

“I need to apologise too. The way I left, so suddenly and without giving you the chance to talk it through like I knew you needed. That was a shitty thing for me to do. No! No interruptions!”

Nicole had opened her mouth to interject, but closed it again as Shae turned her hand over and briefly rubbed her thumbs over her palms. Like she used to do whenever Nicole was having trouble expressing her emotions.

“It was also a shitty thing to be on the receiving end of your wall of silence after I sent the papers. I knew I kind of deserved it but it still really hurt. Even though I knew, by that time space was exactly what you needed. To think it all through in your own way and your own time.”

As Shae stopped talking, Nicole reached out to the tea set and began pouring out the drinks, her hands needing something to do as she gathered her thoughts to respond. “I guess we each took a turn driving the assholemobile. I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“So am I.” Shae responded quietly, but Nicole wasn’t done. There were more important things to say, to acknowledge and make tangible by speaking them aloud. 

“You’re right. I did need that space. You’ve been so unfailingly kind and I didn’t even see it. So now, I actually want to thank you, Shae.”

“Thank me? Really?”

“Yes.” Nicole spoke with complete conviction. “I didn’t understand why you left. For the longest time. I wanted it to work. I wanted our marriage and I couldn’t see it as anything other than as a failing. But I realised, as I was baking in Nanaimo of all places! I realised that I didn't feel like I was failing you, or me, I felt like I was failing Mom. It was on her bucket list, you know. She wanted to see me settled.”

Nicole forced herself to look up at Shae, so she could see the truth of her confession in Nicole’s eyes but she was surprised by the depth of understanding she saw staring back at her. 

“We should never have gotten married, Nikki. Not on a whirlwind of an emotional high, not in service to some higher power or destiny.” 

Nicole nodded along. “I know. We were always a good team but not like that.”

“No. Not like that. I know you may not want it but… I will always consider you my friend. I will never forget the time we shared together, even if we aren’t in each other's lives anymore.”

“I’d like that actually. That’s what I missed most about this whole mess. Just being able to talk to you. And not just about my Mom or your Dad.”

“Okay. Well, let’s try it then. Friends.”

“Friends.” Nicole reached out and they shook hands symbolically, an act punctuated by small hopeful smiles.

“So, in the spirit of friendship, I signed these, but I’m hoping you’ll agree to the amendment I’ve made.” She slid the envelope over to Shae and continued speaking as she skimmed the pages. “I’m going to put the apartment on the market after Bake Off has finished and we’ll split the proceeds. It’s time to move on in more ways than one.”

“Nikki, no. That was your Mom's apartment and I knew, right from the beginning that If we didn’t last, I would never take that from you.”

“I’ve made up my mind about a few things in the last week Shae. Mom is…she’s…I dropped her in the sea! I mean, I lost her twice, you know? The thing is, she’s always here...” Nicole tapped her chest. “...and she spends an inordinate amount of time here too.” She tapped her head with a chuckle despite Shae’s frown. “The point is, she’s not a thing, or a place. She’s with me wherever I go, and it’s time. Time to go and do, or be. Whatever, wherever, whoever the future is.”

“Whoever?” Shae teased, a sparkle suddenly lighting up behind her eyes. 

“Oh, er…”

“Did you meet someone!? Is that why you..? Look, I don’t want to harass you but please. Tell me about her?”

“Only if you agree to the changes.” Nicole raised her eyebrow in challenge.

“Hmmm. How about this. I’ll take this back to the lawyers and have it drawn up properly with the amendment but I’ll have them add a clause that you can back out of this, with no penalty up until the point of sale. Deal?”

“Okay. Deal.” Nicole almost felt overwhelmed with relief.

_Because I’ve coiled the rope._

**_And stowed away the anchor._ **

_Why didn’t I do this before?_

**_You know why._ **

_I was… afraid._

**_Yes. And now?_ **

_I am afraid, with purpose._

Nicole felt her Mom chuckle with agreement, then fade away.

“Now, tell me. Who did you meet? Oh, Nikki, that is an adorable shade of red on your cheeks.” Shae teased.

“Oh, shut up.” But Nicole was laughing. It felt good to be able to tell someone about meeting Waverly. About the unfortunate nickname (Uhhhhhhh) and how they had finally spoken to each other on the ferry last week after Waverly had tripped and fallen into her, causing the impromptu sea-burial of her mother’s ashes. 

“Shae. Are you ever going to stop laughing about this?” Nicole only was mock angry at her ex-wife and she couldn’t stop the self-deprecating grin as Shae’s laughter only doubled at her protests.

_Huh. Ex-wife. That actually feels good to think. Shae will be my ex-wife. It feels... right._

“I don’t think I will, no.” She smiled at Nicole conspiritorily. “So, is she the reason you..? Sorry. That’s unfair.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind you asking. Let’s just say I’d like to find out more about her and I really didn’t feel comfortable doing that when I was still anchored to…”

“Me.”

“Yes, but more that. I was still anchored to the past. I mean, It’s hard to look forward when you spend all day looking behind you. Doing the Bake Off is kind of like my last hurrah to the past. It’s one of the last things on Mom’s bucket list that I haven’t completed for her.”

“I want to ask something else, and I want you to refuse if you don’t feel comfortable, okay?” 

Nicole was wary at Shae’s sudden change in tone, wondering what was coming next.

“You’ve mentioned your Mom’s bucket list twice now, but I didn’t know she had one. Have you been doing it all this time?” Shae didn’t sound hurt or upset, merely curious. So Nicole shared with her the one thing she had kept back during their time together.

“To be honest, I don’t really understand why I kept it from you. It just felt important to do on my own, like it…”

“Wasn’t quite right.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay.” Shae placed her hand over Nicoles again as she looked guiltily away. “No more sorries or guilt about the things we both could’ve done. Now, tell me what else you need to complete on this bucket list.”

“Owning a goat farm.”

“What? No way! An actual farm?”

“That’s what it says. I have no idea how I’m going to achieve this. The only idea I have is to buy some Sylvanian families figures and donate them to the children’s wing at the hospital, but somehow I feel that mom won’t accept that interpretation.”

**_Real. Goats. Or. Bust. Nicole!_ **

Shae was back to laughing. “This is the most ‘your Mom’ thing I have ever heard and now I _completely_ understand why you never said anything. Was she trying to crank your chain?”

**_No, I was trying to crank yours, you joyless, supercilious, judgemental…_ **

_Mom! That’s enough._

“How many of the things have you ‘interpreted’? Ohhh, is that why you agreed to go to Vegas with me after complaining about the idea for weeks?”

“Guilty. She had ‘Win money counting cards in Reno’ but we counted the Vegas slot win.”

“And Britney?”

“It was Dusty Springfield but she was 20 years too late for that.”

“I stan a gay icon.”

“Word.” They playfully fistbumped, and Nicole suddenly noticed the time.

“Hey, I have to go board but, would you mind if I called every now and then? Maybe we could do this again next week. For your Dad’s anniversary?”

“Yes. I would like that very much. I’ll call you, okay? Because I also want to know everything about the quest for Waverly!”

Nicole grinned from ear to ear. “I may have spent more time learning about Yoga than practicing my bakes for this week so…I mean every week could be my last chance with her.”

“I’m happy for you, Nikki. You deserve everything, you know.”

“So do you, Shae. 

They stood and hugged one more time, this time free from sadness, lightened by hope for a better future. Nicole walked away towards the terminal feeling better than she had in nearly three years. 

She couldn’t wait to board and find Waverly. If the universe was on her side today, she’d be able to get a few minutes with her without Wynonna hovering around like the smell of over baked bread. Her thoughts were firmly planted in a banquet in Nanaimo and the knowledge that the next time Waverly asked her how she felt, she would be able to answer with the truth. So many bright futures awaited and all she had to do was find Waverly.

Enter Universe. Stage right. 

**SPRING  
** **Gardner Estate, Nanaimo  
** **SATURDAY**

Waverly was not on the ferry. 

So Nicole waited.

Waverly was not already at Crofte Castle. 

So Nicole waited.

Waverly did not show up at dinner, dessert or during a resounding pool competition held in the games room while Nicole waited for Waverly in the Li-BAR-y and later in the banquette by ‘their’ window.

Finally sloping off to bed past midnight, Nicole tried not to feel deflated and hoped to find time in between filming sessions tomorrow.

Waverly was not outside before dawn doing yoga. So Nicole waited in the breakfast room.

When neither Waverly nor Wynonna turned up to breakfast, Nicole’s patience ran out. As soon as Robin surfaced, Nicole leapt up and bundled him into the hall with a hasty “Can I talk to you in private for a moment.” barked out as Robin suddenly found himself bodily moved without any effort of his own.

“Uhhh, yeah. Hi Nicole! What’s up?”

“Where’s Waverly?” Nicole knew it was an odd sentence, demanding to know the whereabouts of a fellow baker, but it was the essence of what she really needed to know.

“And Wynonna, obviously. I mean, have they arrived? Because they weren’t on the ferry with me and Waves wasn’t out doing her routine and…”

“Hey, it’s okay Nicole. They are here. I’m just about to send a maid up actually. They were very late getting in. Travel disasters. Did you know they have a five hour drive just to get to the terminal? They had truck problems and only just managed to make the last crossing. They got in at 1am.”

“Oh, okay. Jeez, they’re going to be exhausted.”

“Yeah which is why I’ve let them sleep as long as possible. We’re actually going to film about an hour later than usual. I sneakily scheduled in a last minute piece of “vital” tent maintenance to give them a little more time. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Nicole grinned at him. Although Robin looked distracted all the time, he was definitely good at his job.

A fairly grey looking Wynonna and Waverly eventually surfaced, scarfing back a croissant and take-away coffee on the bus ride down to the tent. Nicole didn’t get a chance to talk to Waverly so she just watched, unobtrusively as possible, looking for a chance to interject. To ask how she was doing on so little sleep. Instead, she was picking up something concerning. 

Since boarding the bus Waverly had not spoken to her sister once. She hadn’t even so much as glanced in her direction. Wynonna’s eyes always seemed to be moving, darting back to Waverly, constantly checking in with her. The dance of her eyes reflected pain and regret each time Waverly refused to reciprocate. Something was definitely going on with the Earp sisters.

Entering the tent to begin the day’s filming, the bakers were shown which workstations they were randomly assigned this week. The universe was at play, ensuring Nicole and Waverly’s stations were as far away from each other as possible, so she would have to wait even longer to find out if she was okay.

“Good morning everyone! What a lovely bunch of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed bakers we have with us this morning!” Sue’s shit-eating grin was pointing directly at Wynonna three stations away from Nicole but she was close enough to see the energetic bird flipping going on under the countertop.

“Yes, welcome to biscuit week everyone!” Mel was also giddy with early morning enthusiasm. Nicole felt tired just watching them bounce back on their heels as their introduction to the signature challenge was filmed.

“Today, the lovely Paul and Mary would like you to bake us some jolly gingerbread please. We’ll accept gingerbread women or gingerbread enbies only, I'm afraid. Because the world is full enough of gingerbread men.” 

“Yes, no one wants to chase a gingerbread man round and round the oval office. I mean, tent! So no matter what you choose, it should be unique, creative, and tell us an interesting story. Now, off you pop bakers. You have an hour and a half to bake and exquisitely decorate 24 individual gingerbread-not-men. On your marks.” 

“Get set. 

“BAAAAAAKE!”

Similar to last week, the crew started with Nicole’s interview with Mary and Paul, so she didn’t have to wait before explaining her bake to the judges.

“Good morning Nicole. Please tell us the story of your gingerbread.”

“Hi Paul. Hi Mary. Hi Sue. My gingerbread is a traditional recipe because sometimes you can’t beat a classic, am I right?”

“Are you directing that at me?” Sue teased with mock offence.

“No, no. The book next to you.” Nicole pointed to a worn tome propped up in the position she always imagined her Mom’s urn would’ve sat. “That’s my mascot. My grandmother’s old recipe book. It holds all the Haught recipes her own grandmother smuggled here under her petticoats because she was afraid of rival bakers stealing them.”

“Oh, that’s lovely…” Mary began before Sue interrupted.

“Also, sneaky. I like your great great grandmother.” Nicole smiled and tried not to laugh as Sue turned her teasing towards Mary for once. “Mary, do you often spend time thinking about what’s up stranger’s petticoats?”

Ignoring her fellow presenter Mary continued. “...a family heirloom sounds like a great beginning for a gingerbread story.”

“Well, I hope you like it. This book contains recipes from five generations of Haught women, some are adaptations and some are new ones my mom and I added when we used to bake together on weekends when I was in high school.”

“Awww. So cute.” Sue grinned even as Paul rolled his eyes.

“Is that what you’re going to bake for us today?” Mary asked.

“Not quite.” Nicole grimaced. “Uh, the reason I spent whole weekends at home with my mom was that I was under curfew for a significant chunk of my early teens. When we moved to Texas to look after my grandmother I didn’t take it so well. Fell in with a local crowd who used to break into the train yard and tag up the carriages.”

“NO WAY!” Sue exclaimed loudly.

“Yes way, unfortunately. The local sheriff took me under his wing after I got caught. He called me Little Red Riding Hoodlum and the nickname kinda stuck with me. So that’s what I’m making for you today, me with a signature can of spray paint lurking through a forest of twenty-two trees to get to the train carriage hidden on the other side.”

“Well, it certainly sounds original. Although I must say I’m having trouble reconciling the image of a young tear-away Nicole and the responsible young constable we know in the tent.” Mary was smiling so Nicole figured she hadn’t shocked her too much. It sounded like she was going to have to work harder to convince Paul.

“So twenty-two of the twenty-four biscuits are going to be exactly the same.” Paul’s tone sounded unimpressed, almost accusatory.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. Back in the day, I was particularly well known for my domming technique in burner pieces. It took longer than simple bombs but the effects were legendary. It’s also why I got caught. I spent too much time trying to get it right than looking out for myself I guess.”

“Are you still speaking English?” Sue asked, a cheeky grin on her face

“I think so Sue. You know I’d almost forgotten some of the lingo. It’s probably all different now. Anyway, Paul. Although there are a lot of trees, each one will be subtly different and utilise the spray painting techniques of my misspent youth. This adapted airgun gives me fine control over specially thickened food colouring. They should all be quite different by the time I’m done with them.”

Nicole had deliberately picked a simple biscuit recipe so she could spend the majority of time doing the decoration. She just hoped they weren’t too bland because the strategy risked one of Mary and Paul’s worst criticisms.

“Well let’s hope it’s not a case of style over substance shall we.”

“I knew you were going to say that. Let’s hope not.”

“Thank you Nicole.” Mary added as Paul walked away. “Don’t spend too long ‘trying to get it right’”

I won’t Mary. Thanks.” She smiled in relief. As much as she liked the judges, well, Mary at least, now that the interview was over she could knuckle down and get the biscuits baked as soon as possible. It also meant she had very little time to stop and wonder what was going on with the Earp sisters. Her mind was totally focussed on the task at hand.

By the time her second to last batch was in the oven, Nicole had already prepared everything needed for her decorations. There was nothing to do except wait for them to bake and cool, and listen in as Paul and Mary filmed the final signature introductions. So she tried to relax, and focus on her nearest fellow bakers instead of straining her ears to hear what Waverly was trying to whisper quietly to her sister several workstations away. 

That’s how she knew all about Jeremy making a pig farm for his neighbour’s three-year-old whose current obsession was pigs. Apparently she had devoured the test bakes he had done and earned himself a grilling from her parents. Nedley was creating a vegetable patch complete with fenceline. He’d included carrot in the base of his recipe causing Paul to frown with worry that the resulting biscuits would be too soft. 

With their interviews done and Nicole’s final tray placed in the oven, the three bakers were able to take a rare breather together. Raising a hastily delivered cup of coffee to his lips, Nedley decided to go straight for Nicole’s jugular, knowing they might not get too long out of the camera's gaze.

“Status report, Haught. Where are you at with the whole Waverly situation?”

Nicole had her own cup raised to her mouth at the time and she nearly dropped it down her front. “What?!”

“Oh! I knew it! Yes! You should ask her out. Then you can, um, maybe tell me how you did that. How do you do that, tell someone you like them?” Jeremy’s earnestness was leaking from every pore in his body as he nervously shot a look at Robin delivering coffee mugs to other bakers around the tent.

“Aw, Jeremy. We’re a pair aren’t we?” 

“Yeah…” They stood next to each other quietly for a moment as Robin passed a mug to Waverly at the other end of the tent. They both let out soft sighs before Nedley loudly cleared his throat to get their attention.

“You’re a pair of lovestruck fools. You’re both to talk to them tonight, you hear me? Nedley has spoken.” 

Both Nicole and Jeremy stared back at him before mumbling out quiet ‘Yes Sir’s”

“Pardon?”

“Uh, Yes Sir!”

“That’s more like it.” Nedley spoke gruffly but his moustache was twitching even as he turned to check his oven timer.

Nicole looked down at Jeremy for a moment, bumping his shoulder as she spoke. “I will if you will? Can’t let Nedley down now, can we?”

“Okay. Yes, I can do this I can… Heyyyy Robin. How’s it hangin’ bro?” Jeremy was visibly shaking as Robin approached unexpectedly and he overcompensated.

“Uh, what?” Robin looked confused.

“Nothing daddio, it’s cool...Oh. Oh shit. I didn’t set my timer!” He pushed past Robin who had to quickly jump out of shot as the camera’s appeared, sensing an impending disaster from Jeremy’s panicked body language. 

Nicole’s own timer went off so the crew got a three for one deal as Nedley also removed his bake from the oven and the heady smell of gingerbread filled their area of the tent. She stood at her workstation, mirroring Nedley as they used a baking tray to waft cool air down to the biscuits and watched as Jeremy stumbled around his own station, nearly dropping his weirdly shaped biscuits on the floor three times.

“Oh no, oh no! They’ve spread in the oven. They don’t look like pigs at all…”

Nicole glanced over at them. They were a bit blobby but not unsalvageable. “Hey, it’s all about how you decorate it, right? You can define the pig shape with icing…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got this. I can handle this…”

He didn’t have this. 

Nicole looked on as the more the crew filmed him icing the biscuits, the more nervous he got and the more mistakes he made. He actually started chanting out a little series of ‘fucks’ as he gave them all to the pigs before him. He was rapidly running out of time.

Nicole and Nedley were still putting the finishing touches of their own bakes, but Nicole made a strategic decision to abandon the final five or so trees and instead moved over to Jeremy’s station.

“How can I help?”

“Oh, are you allowed to help?” Jeremy’s hopeful face literally shone as he looked up.

“Don’t care. What do you need me to do?”

“Grab the pink icing bag. Can you flood the second batch while I try to put some kind of decoration on these?”

“On it.”

As Nicole worked, she could see Jeremy’s mistake. She tried to whisper to him “...Jeremy, if you just do the noses they look like…”

“What?”

“Jeremy, you’re making penis biscuits!”

“WHAT?!”

“Look!” He stopped decorating as he looked up at the 12 he had already done. The pig noses, already disproportionately sticking out from the small round heads were now defined by a white icing tip, the last of which had dribbled unhelpfully in a line out onto the table top, and it was too late to do anything about it.

“...and three, two, one! Time’s up bakers, step away from your Gingerbread folxs!”

Nicole looked up right into the barrel of a camera. They’d captured the whole thing, including her horrified reaction. She turned to look at Jeremy. The whites of his eyes were showing as they widely stared into her own. 

So she did what felt natural, cameras be damned. She enveloped him in a full body hug and said. “It’s only biscuits, Jer. They’ll taste great.”

Jeremy started giggling as Nedley came up behind him, peeking at the biscuits and raising his eyes at Nicole, he piled in behind them making Jeremy into a sandwich filling.

“Is someone having a Mel and Sue sandwich without us!” came a loud call from the front of the tent. In two seconds flat, they had both joined the sandwich hug, one at each end. 

“Hey! I want one too!” Soon, Wynonna, Waverly, Fish and Kate had all joined in the pile on and Jeremy’s smile was back, baking disaster forgotten for the moment as he laughed along with his bakers.

“Thanks guys. You’re the best.”

“Okay everyone, back to your stations for the judging. Chop chop!” Mel clapped her hands as the sandwich hug unravelled itself. Nicole managed to catch Waverly’s eye, their first communication all day was a silently mouthed ‘Oh my god!’ in recognition of the perfect penis biscuits on Jeremy’s workstation.

It was short and sweet, but Nicole didn’t care. It was the first time Nicole had seen her smile all morning. 

And it had been directed at her.

(>。<) (>。<) (>。<)

The Technical challenge passed by just as quickly as the Signature with some fairly lacklustre performances. Nicole was pleased overall with her effort despite her fifth placing. Paul’s pared back recipe had removed all the temperature and cooking time information so she had just been happy to turn out edible Pizzelle cookies that were well baked. The fact that they were really rough around the edges was pretty low on her ‘give a fuck’ list.

Jeremy had turned out to be a whizz with the special waffle iron that had been provided and had redeemed himself with first place in the technical. Waverly was second, with everyone else barely distinguishable in the middle and Kate, Fish and Wynonna bringing up the rear.

They made a weary bunch sloping back to the castle for dinner and for once the Universe smiled on her as Nicole found Waverly, Jeremy and Nedley to be her closest dinner companions. Wynonna sat with Dolls, Fish and Champ at another table and as soon as the last mouthful of dessert had been consumed, the four of them stood and marched with purpose from the room.

“What was that about?” Nicole called out to Kate as she moved to follow.

“Champ’s been talking shit since he lost the impromptu tournament last night. He thinks he can take Wynonna playing left handed.”

“Let me guess, she told him she’s never played before and called the cue a ‘stick’? If you’re going to bet, bet on her. She’s hustling him” Waverly confessed. 

“Oh, I already guessed that much. He really is dumber than a rock isn’t he.”

“Let’s go watch!” Jeremy enthused, jumping up and following Kate.

“I think I’ll do my garden walk instead and have an early night.” Nedley gave Nicole a purposeful look as Waverly called out a gentle goodnight.

With Mattie already retired to _The Hephaestus_ and Bunny disappeared to god knows where, Nicole realised - She was finally alone with Waverly. 

The dining room fell quiet with the sudden absence of people, but it was a comfortable, restful silence. They sat opposite each other near the window panels where the soft spring breeze carried in the scent of freshly mown grass. The only sounds were of wandering bees hunting for their own nectar dinners and the soft sounds of the bakers drifting down the hall from the games room. Nicole turned towards the door as Wynonna’s voice carried the loudest.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I definitely don’t want to spend any of my free time with (boring) no matter how satisfying it would be to see Wynonna wipe the floor with him.” 

“Who?”

_Oh Shit…_

**_ALL DAY YOU’VE WAITED TO TALK TO HER!_ **

**_ALL FUCKING DAY!_ **

**_And you LEAD with (boring)!?_ **

_You’re not HELPING!_

Nicole cleared her throat. A strangely loud sound now that silence had fallen between the pair for several long seconds. “Um, Champ. Sorry. I assigned him a nickname. It helps me remember new people’s names. Handy as a cop.” She tried to smile, hoping Waverly wouldn’t think it was creepy. 

Waverly merely responded with a raised eyebrow, expecting more of an explanation which just made Nicole splutter more words and sound at least eighty percent more mad.

“It’s a bad habit I picked up in high school and I just… haven’t been able to move past it? I mean, everyone got assigned a tag in my head, and then I used them in my… um. Art.”

“You spray painted the code names of kids you had beef with all over the rail cars parked in your local depot.” Waverly deadpanned back to her.

“Yes. Yes I did. Among other things that may have illustrated the words they were given.”

“And you got caught doing this.”

“Yes. Yes I did. By (dickcheese)’s Dad - our local Sheriff.”

That’s when Waverly lost her resolve. Her laughter bounced off the window and reverberated right through Nicole’s soul. It sounded like Christmas, a pure joy and delight that Nicole knew she would never, ever tire of hearing. 

“I take it he didn’t appreciate your ‘art’.”

“No, he did not. It set my reputation for years to come. There’s now an underground annual ‘dickcheese’ competition apparently.”

**_Don’t act like you’re not still proud of that. Miscreant._ **

“Oh my god, the smugness on your face right now. It’s a sight to behold.” Waverly wiped at her eyes, regaining her composure quickly, efficiently changing her expression from wryly amused to calculating.

Nicole felt any hint of remaining smugness slide slowly off her face. Waverly was assessing her. Researching. Like a cartoon lightbulb going off in her head, Nicole realised exactly what she was going to say next. She felt all the air leave her lungs before Waverly even began speaking.

“So, do we all have ‘Nic’ names, Nic?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…_

**_I told you this system would bite you on the Vag one day._ **

_Go away!_

**_Fine! I’ve been meaning to tell the seashells all about how I raised an idiot for a daughter. No time like the fucking present!_ **

_Good! Tell them I say ‘Fuck off!”_

“Yeah…um. I mean...yes, Technically you all do, um...” Nicole really didn’t want to continue this conversation, but she couldn’t think of any means of escape other than flat out refusal. Or telling (Uhhhhhhh) the truth.

“Ah, technically. So now you _have_ to tell me.”

“Waverly, no.”

“Waverly, yes.” She was teasing her, deliberately trying to goad her into revealing more, and Nicole had no will power to avoid doing exactly that. Waverly’s spark had been missing somehow for most of the day, but right here, right now it was back in full force and Nicole didn’t want it to stop. She felt her resolve crumble away like wet cake.

“Okay, well, Champ is (boring) and Bunny is (phobe).”

“Oh, wow. That is super accurate!”

“So you agree that Champ is boring?” Nicole decided the best form of defence was to tease right the hell back.

“No comment.” Waverly responded with perfect diplomacy.

“So, Dolls earned the label (staunch) the first night we were here. Nedley is (steadfast), Jeremy is (earnest). Robin is (sweet), Kate is (mystery). Mattie is (tempered), and Fish is (committed).

“What about Doc?” Waverly looked directly at Nicole, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Doc? Well, to be honest, my first impression of him was (shifty). I have been known to change a label, once I get to know people. Like your sister. She was (cold) to start with but now she’s…”

“What?” Waverly’s brow was furrowed at the mention of her sister's name and Nicole realised she was skirting on the edge of something. Where the hard fought for lightness in Waverly could all come crashing down.

“Um, now her name is (unconditional).”

“Really? Huh.” Waverly sat back in her chair, thinking. “That actually… Yeah. That’s... insightful. She just does what works for her. In all aspects of her life.”

“Your sister seems…” Nicole couldn’t find any other words to describe the storm that was knowing Wynonna Earp.

“A lot?”

Nicole nodded in good-natured agreement. “I thought she was your girlfriend actually” Nicole didn’t expect the voracious laughter that poured from Waverly at her statement. 

“Hey, in my defence, she was looking at you through that whole filming audition with a look of such unconditional love, what was I supposed to think.”

There it was. 

Nicole had finally triggered the ‘something’ that seemed to dog Waverly. Her face moved in a micro-movement, just a fraction of a second long but Nicole was looking (of course she was looking) so she didn’t think she imagined it. A brief flicker of fog passing behind Waverly’s eyes at the mere suggestion that her sister might love her.

Now there was a choice to be made. Nicole could deflect, shut down the direction of the conversation completely, or she could offer Waverly the chance to open up. Only the second option gave Waverly a choice, the agency to decide to share or not. Nicole gambled on option two. “Is everything alright with you two?”

“Hmmmm. You’re very observant aren’t you super-cop” Waverly spoke evenly, with a neutral expression so Nicole couldn’t quite tell if she had chosen wisely or not.

Waverly sighed, “We’re not exactly talking at the moment. I know she’s hiding something from me. I keep finding doctor’s appointment cards hidden around the homestead.When I confronted her about it she just outright denied it and I _know_ she’s lying. That’s what makes me most mad. That we both know she’s lying and yet she still won’t admit it.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Waves. I don’t have any siblings, so I can’t offer any sage words or advice.”

“It’s okay. I mean, we’ll be okay. I’ll get it out of her in the end. I’m an excellent researcher. I _always_ find out what I want to know.”

To Nicole’s mounting horror, Waverly’s half smirk and the little mischievous sparkle in her eye telegraphed her next question from as far away as Manitoba.

“So what’s my ‘Nic’ name, Nicole?”

“Uhhhhhhh…”

For once, Nicole called on the Universe and the Universe provided. Robin interrupted like the stringbean superhero Nicole knew him to be. Much to Waverly’s amusement, Nicole latched onto the distraction.

“Robin! Hi, come join us! How are you!”

Ignoring Waverly’s muffled laughter at Nicole’s obvious discomfort, Robin pulled out a simple white box from his ever-present puffer jacket.

“Wynonna mentioned you were having a few issues with an insurance claim for a phone?”

“Oh, yeah. I lost mine on the ferry last week.”

“Well, I managed to secure you a loan phone. The production company likes to know it can get a hold of you at any time.”

“Robin, this is a brand new iPhone. I can’t accept this?” Waverly sounded unsure.

“Yeah you can. It’s a loan phone. You’ll have to give it back when your time with us ends or after you secure your payout. Whichever comes first okay?”

“Mister Jett? I’m not finished with you!” The unmistakable voice of Bunny Loblaw carried down the hall to the dining room.

“Oh. God.” Robin looked haggard. “She hasn’t stopped complaining since filming stopped. I can’t deal with her any more today. I’m going to go bonkers! Hide me! Please!”

“Quick, duck out the french doors. If she asks we never saw you. Go! Go now!” Waverly leaned behind her seat and pushed the door open. Robin disappeared towards the Italian garden with seconds to spare before Bunny walked in. Seeing only Nicole and Waverly, she simply walked out, not even deigning to speak to them.

“So. Homoxenophobe?”

“She’s the worst, yeah.”

“Ugh. Forget about her. Wanna sit here with me all night and help me set this baby up?” Waverly waved the box at Nicole.

“Absolutely.” There was nothing she wanted to do more than spend an entire evening in Waverly Earp’s company.

Two hours later, they were still in the dining room, with Waverly’s phone nearly finished restoring from an iCloud back-up. They were both physically flagging from tiredness, but neither wanted to stop talking about anything and everything under the sun. 

Somehow, their conversation steered towards hopes and dreams. Nicole got the distinct impression Waverly was sharing something she had never talked about out loud before. She felt privileged to be the one to hear it. It felt like a precious gift had been given to her and she knew, with all her heart, she would hold it safe within herself to honour the trust Waverly placed in her.

“Writing. I would love to be able to write, research, maybe teach a little?” Waverly was so still, looking at her hands as she turned the phone around in her hands. A nervous tell if ever Nicole had seen one. “That’s why I write the blog. I love researching old recipe books, adapting things to suit delicate diets, getting feedback from people who have tried my recipes and enjoyed them. It gives me a huge amount of personal satisfaction. Especially when I’m able to publish in more than one language. If I taught, that’s what I’d like to do. Ancient languages. With a side hustle in recipes. That would be… the ultimate. Yeah.”

“What’s stopping you?” Nicole asked quietly.

Waverly’s eyes fluttered and again Nicole felt like she was skirting along the edges of something important.

“Nothing really.” Waverly replied, her voice flat. “What about you? The hopes and dreams of Nicole Haught? I mean, have you already achieved them now you’re a cop?”

Now it was Nicole’s turn to look down at her hands in an attempt to hide her reaction. She could sense with the certainty that the sun would rise tomorrow that Waverly needed to deflect the conversation away from herself. She wanted to be that safety net for her, but that would mean answering Waverly’s question.

“Well, yes and no. Ahhh, where do I start with this.” Nicole looked up and found herself captivated by Waverly’s eyes. Inside their depths she saw nothing but kindness. An open platform to share as much or as little as she wanted. So share, she did.

“All those years ago, when I got caught tagging, I got very, very lucky. The Sheriff let me off easy, didn’t process me through the proper channels. He took me home and set up an agreement with my Mom. I stayed off the street and helped him around the station. It was the making of me. I decided I wanted to be a cop after the first week, but I didn’t understand why until I was older.”

Nicole didn’t realise she had begun nervously picking at her hands until Waverly’s covered them with her own. A silent encouragement to continue. If she wanted.

“The Sheriff wasn't as kind to other kids in my crew. To be truthful, I think he was sweet on my Mom but she was never interested in him.”

 **_Gak_ **

“That’s why I say I’m lucky. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the break he cut me.

I’ve had long and difficult conversations with him since, after I began to understand how wrong that was. That's why I transferred into community policing as soon as I could. There are so many deeply talented and intelligent kids that people just forget about because they won't behave like adults want them to. I really, really hate that. I want to do more to redress that imbalance. Where some kids get a break, and others don’t." 

“Nicole, have you looked at the other stained glass pieces around the Castle? Specifically, this one right above us.” Waverly’s gentle question threw Nicole off course somewhat. Waverly seemed to be a master of conversational u-turn but if there was one thing she had learned about Waverly Earp, following along in her wake was always worth it.

“Uh, I can’t say that I have?” Nicole craned her neck to take in the stained glass upper windows of the dining hall.

“This panel depicts the Horae. The seasons anthropomorphised into three beautiful Greek goddesses.”

“Three seasons?”

“Well, they don’t directly correspond to a ‘season’ as we would understand it. These three elements are essential to the greek vision of a moral order of the world. Like we need the cycle of Spring, Summer and Autumn to ensure the health of crops, we need justice, lawful conduct and peace to ensure a healthy society.”

Waverly pointed to each figure in turn as she spoke the concepts, then returned to repeat their names.

“Diké, Eunomia and Eirenne.”

Nicole swallowed thickly. Waverly was still holding her hands.

“Do you want to know which one I think you are?”

“Are you about to make a Dyke joke?” Nicole tried to deflect, her eyes fixed to their hands until Waverly’s silence drew her eyes upwards, as inevitable as adhesion of water in a glass.

“That would mean I thought of you only as justice. Although your story tells me how deeply you believe in it, I also believe that you embody lawful conduct, and peace. Nicole, you are all three of these seasons in one wonderful package.”

Air vanished. 

Taken from her lungs like a vacuum formed by Waverly’s words.

The Universe held time to ransom within that single exhalation.

Nicole felt like she lived a lifetime in that single moment. The moment she knew she was irrevocably in love with Waverly Earp.

"You’re like, the Anti-’Nonna, I swear.” Waverly giggled, breaking the moment by squeezing her hands and letting them go. Nicole drifted loose, untethered and bereft.

“I also believe you might have more in common with her than you think." 

"I highly doubt that." Nicole managed a spluttered response, all the while trying to put herself back together piece by piece until she could recognise herself enough to begin thinking clearly.

"You should have seen Wynonna's face when the narc confessed her 'dark past'. I could tell she was impressed but she'll never tell you." 

"I expect nothing less." Nicole grinned despite herself.

“Oh god. I’m so tired.” Waverly finally admitted.

“Yeah, me too. Bed?”

**_I mean, I’d raise my eyebrows at you but I can see Waverly’s already doing it for me._ **

“I mean, um…”

“Give me your phone.” Waverly demanded.

“What, wh…why?”

“Do you trust me?” Waverly’s mischievous grin was back.

“Of course.” Nicole fished her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it with her thumb.

“Could you grab me a glass of water from the kitchen to take upstairs please?” Her face was dripping with innocence and Nicole couldn’t help but play along.

“Oh, okay.” She walked away, leaving Waverly furiously typing something on her phone. By the time she got back, Waverly was waiting for her in the doorway. She handed the phone back as they walked up the oak staircase to ‘their’ window over the Minstrel's Gallery.

“Thank you for a lovely evening Nicole. Sleep well.”

“Sleep well Waverly.”

Then she was gone.

Nicole wandered back to her room in a daze. It was dark, empty due to Dolls’ investment in whatever malarky Wynonna had roped him into downstairs. So when her phone went off suddenly, Waverly’s face literally lit up the room. She had entered her contact details, number and address then programmed the phone to display a selfie she had taken while Nicole was in the kitchen.

Waverly had sent a simple text: 

🌈 🦄 Waverly 🦄 🌈  
10.47pm  
_‘Go out on the balcony’._

Smiling, feeling giddy at how her heart had skipped when Waverly’s face lit up her phone, Nicole stumbled around in the dark before reaching the door that opened out onto the balcony.

Waverly was standing in the mirror balcony on the other side of the castle, holding her phone to her chest, she waved gently at Nicole, almost shy now she had called her outside after they had already said their goodnights. 

For several moments they simply stood, looking at each other, smiles growing ever wider. Nicole could feel her heartbeat clawing at her from inside her ribcage, almost snarling to be free to roar her feelings into the night.

Before she could give in to that temptation, a loud crash came from inside Waverly’s room just as she heard Dolls enter her own with decidedly more grace. Wynonna burst out onto Waverly’s balcony holding a fistful of cash. She pulled up short as she took in Nicole.

“Hey! Haught! This isn’t some Juliet and Juliet gay shit going on is it?” Wynonna’s loud shout carried across half of Vancouver island.

Waverly whacked her hard on the arm and very quietly, but clearly very firmly tore her sister to shreds. Wynonna very quickly retreated inside, waving half-heartedly at Nicole as she went.

Waverly mimed putting a gun to her head before turning her attention to her phone. 

Turning to her own screen, three little ellipses appeared bouncing in anticipation of Waverly’s message. She waited. Until Waverly’s final word on the evening came through.

🌈 🦄 Waverly 🦄 🌈  
10.55pm  
_‘I’ll get my ‘Nic’ name out of you one day, Nicole.  
__Your face tells me it’s a good one._

Nicole’s eyes flew wide as saucers as she looked back to Waverly, who fired a final smug look in her direction before disappearing inside. 

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**INT. JUDGES TENT  
**Mary and Paul sit at one end of the small table in the Judges marquee with samples of the bakers Tuille twirl showstoppers spread across the top. Mel sits at the other end and slaps at Sues hand which is subtly trying to steal a sample for herself.

 **MEL  
**(with knowing enthusiasm)

Well, it’s a tight race to the bottom this week, isn’t it?

 **SUE  
**(Snorts inelegantly)

 **MARY  
**(Ignoring Sue with practised ease)

Absolutely. Although, no one has performed terribly, it’s just…

 **PAUL  
**(Interrupting)

Well, I would class it as terrible. The bakes have all been fine, but pretty much everyone failed to finish what they set out to do. That’s a time management issue that they’re going to need to sort out if they’re going to stay in the competition.

**SUE**

Come on Paul. Put your sorting hat on. Who’s doing well overall, and who isn’t?

**PAUL**

Well, it is kind of clear. Ambrose has overcome his earlier difficulties and has shown us today exactly what he’s made of and Waverly, Nicole, Mattie and Jeremy all perform consistently. 

**MEL**

When they aren’t abandoning their work to help each other out.

**MARY**

Quite. I’d add Dolls in the top half too. And Bunny could be there if she can expand out of her comfort zone of traditional home baking.

**PAUL**

Which leaves Wynonna, Kate and Champ in the lower field. Kate shows so much promise but it’s just not coming together. Same for Wynonna. Everything she’s doing shows talent and flair but is mostly just whiskey and attitude. Then there’s Champ… I don’t know what Champ’s is doing here if I’m honest. That Illusion cake was admittedly amazing but I’ve not seen much this week that makes me think he belongs here.

**SUE**

Starbaker?

 **MARY  
**(Smiling)

An easy decision this week.

**MEL**

What about who’ll be leaving us? 

**PAUL  
**(Smirking)

A much harder conundrum. Can I send two home?

 **CUT. INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
**Mel, Sue, Paul and Mary arrive on their marks, ready to deliver their judgement.

**MEL**

Welcome back bakers. Now it’s time to see whose biscuits have triumphed and whose have crumbled. I’ve got the best job today and I am absolutely delighted to tell you that this week's star baker is... Ambrose! 

There are smiles all round as the presenters join the other bakers in clapping for a stunned Fish. Waverly quickly hops off her stool to pin Randy’s Sheriff’s star to his apron

**SUE**

Which of course leaves me with the horrible job of announcing the second baker who will be leaving us this series. And that baker...

 **CUT.  
**To a long shot, where the face of the three worst bakers are in focus, in profile sitting on their seats. We see Kate, Wynonna, Champ and Bunny.

**SUE**

Is...

 **CUT.  
**To three elongated single shots, close ups of each of their faces. Wynonna tries to look impassive, Kate is effortlessly regal, Champ appears to be champing at the bit, unable to keep still in his seat and Bunny has her head cocked to one side, almost as if she can’t remember where she is.

 **SUE**

Kate. 

The other bakers take turns to either let out a breath of relief or turn to Kate in commiseration. They break rank, to join in the large group hug that forms around her.

 **CUT. EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
**Kate stands outside with the tiered gardens as her backdrop. She’s wrapped up warm despite the season and is holding a large umbrella to keep off the light drizzle falling all around her.

**KATE**

Everything ends, and every ending is a new beginning. Even here. We’re all linked by this tent. Maybe we share a future too? Only the Tarot knows for sure.

(╯︵╰,) ┌iii┐

**Crofte Castle Dining Hall  
** **SUNDAY**

“Because it’s dumb, Waverly.”

Wynonna, Kate and Waverly had formed a small posse as they left the Dining hall for the Li-BAR-y, beating the others to post dinner drinks. Kate had indicated a desire to celebrate rather than commiserate her exit from the tent by offering to read everyone’s Tarot. A number of bakers had sounded intrigued enough that Kate had already excitedly retrieved two separate decks from her room, along with an elaborate, frankly ostentatious, mystics robe.

“You mock…” Kate interrupted. “...but the Tarot has a lot to say to those with the will to listen.”

“So says the professional card reader.” Wynonna scoffed, but Nicole could tell Wynonna was secretly pleased Waverly was interacting with her. “Anyway, I’m just surprised little miss ‘research and analysis’ thinks there’s anything in it.”

“Wynonna, it’s just storytelling. You can take the story to heart or you can ignore it. It’s not like it really affects your destiny or anything. It’s just a bit of fun.” Waverly was trying to reason with her sister, but Nicole could see that nothing would shift the immovable object of Wynonna with a made up mind.

“Remind me to remind you that you said that when you pull the death card.”

“The death card doesn’t mean death.” Kate declared.

“Yeah, and the tower doesn’t represent a giant dick either. Whatever, I’m going to shoot some pool. Count me out.” Wynonna looked like she wanted to say more but closed her mouth and left for the games room. 

“Well, what about you, Nicole? Care to join us?” Kate asked, holding her special edition box set of the Mary-El deck up in one hand and a traditional, well worn Waite deck in the other. “Choose your weapon.”

Nicole’s eye’s flicked between the decks as she tried to make up her mind even though her mind wanted her to choose following Wynonna. Instead, she found herself looking at Waverly for the thousandth time that day.

**_You should buy a yearly permit to park your eyes there you know. It’d save you money in the long run._ **

_Mom…_

**_I’m just saying._ **

_Well, don't._

**_Do you have time for this inner monologue? They’re still waiting for you to speak. You can still speak can’t you? The fire didn’t burn off your larynx._ **

_Don’t… don’t remind me._

During the Showstopper, Nicole hadn’t noticed how she had trapped the edge of her apron in the oven door, too distracted by Waverly’s gaze whipping across the room. Nicole’s attraction to her hazel lure was effortless, helpless, and apparently, utterly dangerous.

Embarrassing wasn’t really the word for the moment, all caught on camera, where Wynonna, cooly and effortlessly sidled up next to her, opening the oven door to spray fire-suppressant all over her. The extra two sprays, long after the fire had gone out was sure to make it into the all-time-best-Bake-Off moments which was something Nicole was trying not to think about.

Instead, she focussed on how Waverly had run to her, checking she was okay. Her eyes flickered over her entire body, searching for injury for far longer than she needed too. It wasn’t like her lips had caught fire, but Waverly’s gaze seemed to be extra concerned with that part of her anatomy. Nicole had had to suck her lips into her mouth to stop the cocky smirk she had felt forming, earning herself a distinct eye roll from Wynonna to go along with the passive aggressive ‘you’re welcome’ fired at her.

That’s when Waverly noticed the cameras, and she had been back inside her quiet little cloud ever since. Until now, a spark of (Uhhhhhhh) returning with the idea of indulging Kate’s enthusiasm to read her new friends tarot.

**_I have a bad feeling about this._ **

_Yeah, the universe hates Haughts, so..._

Nicole started to shake her head but one look at the slight frown of disappointment on Waverly’s face had her saying different words than she had planned. “Sure. Why not.”

“This is gonna be so much fun!” Waverly said, clapping her hands with excitement.

**_You are so whipped._ **

All Nicole could do was sigh.

(ノ ˘_˘)ノ 口 口 口

Kate sat with an air of mysterious authority at one of the bar’s circular tables, with just enough room to lay out the four cards needed for the style of reading she had chosen for her fellow bakers. Nedley, Ambrose, Robin, Jeremy, and Champ had all chosen to take part. 

They sat in a rough half circle behind an empty chair intended to be occupied by each querent in turn, offering the illusion of privacy as Kate interpreted each baker's spread. The curtains were half pulled so the room was dimmer than usual. Dust motes visible on the sparse beams of evening sunlight. 

“I’m going to do a simple read for you all.” Kate spoke in a hushed tone. “We will pick a card as a signifier, one that represents you as a whole, and then a traditional triangle spread, where we’ll ask the universe what is behind you, what surrounds you and what lies before you. In other words, we’ll be asking for guidance from your past, your present and your potential future.”

Kate was clearly a consummate performer and Nicole couldn’t quite believe she was falling for such classic and obvious performance tricks. Yet the atmosphere in the room was charged with anticipation, an eerie silence falling on them all as Robin's cards were dealt and revealed first.

Robin’s signifier was The Sun and he was told he was cheerful, happy and likely to see good times ahead in work as well as his personal life. Next, Jeremy was also pleased when his cards suggested he should expect new and important people in his life and that being open to the word ‘yes’ would bless his future with happiness.

As Waverly stood to take Jeremy’s place at the table, Nicole felt a distinct sense of foreboding deep in her bones. It came out of nowhere and jarred awkwardly against the feeling of hope that rolled over in her chest and purred like a contented cat whenever she thought about Waverly. There was absolutely no reason for her to feel defensive or on edge, and yet as Kate slowly shuffled the cards, the air in her lungs felt like it was growing thick, dense with import and tension. 

“Waverly, your signifier is ‘High Priestess’.” Kate’s quiet and somehow knowing tone did nothing to calm Nicole’s blood pressure.

“Oh, I like this. Look, she’s reading.” Waverly picked up the card and showed it to everyone behind her. “That definitely seems like me.”

Kate smiled at Waverly’s enthusiasm. “She’s a mysterious woman, signifying feminine, spiritual power, but also represents secret knowledge…”

“Oh. What, um? What kind of secret knowledge?”

“The transformative kind. See how she’s pointing her staff out towards something yet to be seen? The release of arcane knowledge to those unprepared to know the truth can be dangerous. This can be mitigated by letting your intuition guide you, rather than your studious, logical side.” Kate tapped at the book depicted on the card, her eyes open wide, staring into Waverly’s own.

“See how she sits between two pillars? Her knowledge promises reconciliation between opposing forces, between good and evil, light and dark, enlightenment and ignorance. Reconciliation can only occur for those who follow universal law.”

Nicole couldn’t tear her eyes away from Waverly. She had started to fold in on herself again, leaning back in her chair, hands tucking away inside her arms. It was her eyes that worried Nicole the most. She could only see a hint of them from her position but she could see they were turning dark, cloudy and cold as her face set, unexpressive and still.

“Oooookay. What does all that mean?”

“Well, we’ll take a look at how the other cards may influence the interpretation, but I think it means whatever you already know it means, judging by the look in your eyes.”

“Humour me, Kate. You’re the expert here. What do _you_ think?” Waverly’s eyes challenged, almost goading Kate to tell her what she thought of her.

Kate paused a moment before turning over the card representing Waverly’s past, only breaking eye contact to see what was revealed.

“The ten of swords…” Waverly’s breath hitched as she finally looked down at the card. It was a gruesome depiction of a naked, dead body, skewered by ten longswords. “...represents a past wracked by ruin.”

Nicole had had enough. Waverly was clearly being negatively affected by the reading and she found herself moving before she was thinking. 

“Hey, we can stop…” She had reached out to touch Waverly’s arm, like she had many times before, but this time, Waverly flinched away from her, surprising Nicole with the violence of the movement.

“What? No. It’s just a story. I want to hear the whole thing.”

Nicole looked to Kate then, silently willing her to stop, but the reading continued and Waverly withdrew even further into herself.

”It symbolises the end of a period of trials and tribulations and the beginning of a new cycle in your present. First you have to clear away the debris of the old cycle and this is painful. The card is upside down, suggesting that in the past, you’ve held back from doing the necessary, holding back out of fear or inertia, so potential remains unrealized. It’s time to make a choice. Even if it’s the wrong one.”

Kate then revealed the card for the present. It was another sword card.

“The four of swords represents seclusion. This may suggest that part of clearing out the old cycle involves the need to remove yourself, literally, from your day-to-day life to go deeper into your inner-self. It suggests the possibility of respite after the sorrow and misfortune of your past.”

“Well, that might be true. I’m here doing a baking TV show instead of tending the bar back home right?” Waverly smiled at her fellow bakers, trying to dampen the tension that had been growing in the room. Nicole looked to the others too, noticing a few smiles, a few pairs of shoulders relaxing. Waverly was working her ‘smile and wave’ magic but Nicole wasn’t fooled. It was her eyes again. Nicole couldn’t look away from the emotions tumbling across them. Right now, they were angry.

“Now, the future…”

**_If this is the death card, I swear I will make this woman disappear and you won’t even know what I did with the body._ **

_Mom, if this is the death card I will turn in my badge and help you._

“The Queen of Pentacles.” Kate’s relieved smile went a long way to brightening the room.

“Is that a good one?” A small hint of light returned to Waverly’s eyes.

“A very good card. It represents good fortune. Pentacles usually has regard to matters of monetary wealth or possessions and it may do for you, but combined with two cards from the Sword suit and the High Priestess as your signifier, I believe it suggests a future lived with a sense of wholeness, a comfort in yourself and your direction in life. It suggests enjoyment gained from a harvest after hard labour, a reward for the difficulty and effort made.”

“So, the life I always wanted is just around the corner, I just have to be willing and open to work for it. I think pretty much everyone’s life story boils down to that simple wisdom right?”

“That sounds about right Waverly.” Nedley’s calm quiet voice spoke from the back of the room and he raised a glass to her.

“Alright it must be my turn next right?” Champ’s voice cut through the room, graunching at Nicole’s soul. Waverly relinquished her seat to him and made her way to the back of the room to sit with Nedley. Away from Nicole.

Kate gathered the cards, reshuffling them with deliberate slowness as she took in Champs arrogant posture and ugly smirk. She dealt out four cards, turning the first quickly. Kate’s beautiful gold inlaid cards made the gaunt, bearded, elderly figure stand out, a stark contrast to the youth and vitality Champ exuded.

“Champ, your signifier today is The Hermit…”

“This old dude is supposed to represent me? This chick knows nothing about fortune telling.” He looked around the room as if searching for support. He found none.

“The Hermit symbolises boundaries and limitations. His guiding hand is ignored to your peril, especially if you allow the trappings of life to distract you from your own spiritual growth, Champ.” Kate quickly moved on to the card representing Champ’s past.

“This is further reinforced here by the Page of Wands. The impulsivity of youth may have prevented you from listening to important messages. Now, your present…”

Kate turned over the card and frowned, her face taking on an air of distaste. “The Ace of Cups. This card represents love...”

Champ had cornered the market in smugness. He made sure to stare right at Nicole before turning to Waverly as he spoke “Well, this seems more like me. I think my present has quite a lot of potential for matters of the heart.” He placed his hand over his chest as he all but leered in Waverly’s direction.

“...or more generally, the potential for a new beginning and that the present is a good time for emotional and creative growth. Considering your first two cards, I believe this to be the case. It’s time to grow up, Champ.”

“Oh, I’m all grown up Kate. I’m the right man for all kinds of growth…” 

**_I just threw up in my mouth, and I’m already dead._ **

_I’ve never wanted to join you more than in this moment, Mom._

Nicole caught Kate’s eye for a moment. She seemed just as incredulous with the man's idiocy as she was.

“Okay, let’s wrap this up shall we Champ?” Flipping the future card, Kate almost rolled her eyes in frustration. “This is the King of Swords. It’s a very masculine card that I already know you’re going to misinterpret so I don’t know why I’m bothering.”

“Misinterpret? What’s to misinterpret? This guy’s got all the cool armour, a sword and a mighty steed pawing at the ground. A suitable King for a Queen wouldn’t you say Waverly?” He looked towards her, completely ignorant of Waverly’s lack of interest in him.

Kate sighed, as she tried to enlighten him anyway. “The King of Swords is in absolute command when he is fair and exercising sound judgement. Yours is in reverse, meaning susceptibility to fickleness, gossiping and superficiality. A rigidity in your opinions will cancel out any spiritual growth suggested in your other cards. Okay, you’re done. Nedley? Let’s read yours next. Please. Now.”

The unfortunate consequence of Nedley moving to sit in front of Kate was that the seat next to Waverly was immediately filled by Champ. He moved the chair, ensuring he sat closer to her than he had any need or right to. 

As Kate began shuffling the deck to begin Nedley’s reading, Champ leaned in to Waverly, whispering something in her ear. Her entire face changed, morphing through so many different emotions Nicole felt like she had whiplash trying to work out what was going on. Champ stared at Nicole with a look of triumph in his eyes. Waverly’s face finally settled on sadness.

“Randy, your signifier is, oh! The Star is a beautiful card. The yellows symbolise optimism and the blue, peace. It suggests…”

“Hey, that chicks got her tits out!” Champ’s loud voice carried across the room as he laughed at his own joke. “A bit wasted on an old-timer like you, eh Nedley!” The figure on the card was indeed nude, seated beside a pool.

“Champ! Can you just, not.” Nicole snapped at him, unaware she had even spoken until the words had tumbled out of her mouth. Her tone was perhaps unnecessarily harsh but conveyed exactly how much her patience for his boorishness had lapsed. She needed to talk to Waverly, to check in and find out what awful thing Champ had said to her to make her look like that.

“What? She’s hot right? Don’t you think she’s hot? You’re the lesbo.'' There was an actual audible groan from the group but Champ seemed blissfully unaware of himself.

“That’s not how attraction works you moron!”

“Oh, yeah, and how does attraction work then? Following people around with puppy eyes all day?” His implication was clear as he looked at Waverly. “Real women prefer the company of real men, not butch cops or whatever it is you are.”

Champ looked unreasonably pleased with himself, like he’d just duelled with Shakespeare and won rather than proving himself dumber than a sack of licked potatoes. 

A chorus of complaints arose from the group, Nedley’s “Now, son that’s just uncalled for…” vying with Waverly’s “Hey, let’s just all…” for Nicole’s attention, but her mind was too occupied with processing the flood of unexpected anger Champ’s tone had provoked in her.

Nicole learned something about herself in that moment. She’d been insulted plenty of times by assholes like Champ, but she’d never heard Waverly brought into it before. Insulting Waverly, either real or imagined, was a huge trigger for her. 

She found herself standing, suddenly, moving towards Champ with clenched fists and clenched jaw. Her seat scratched noisily against the hardwood floor, nearly toppling over with the haste in which she stood. If she’d been allowed to close the gap between them, she honestly couldn’t in good conscience say she wouldn’t have decked Champ in full view of six independent witnesses. 

Thankfully, Nedley had read the situation perfectly. He leaned out and placed a very firm grip to Nicole’s forearm. She couldn’t move forward without consciously choosing to wrench away from him. The pressure forced her to take stock of what was happening, breaking her out of the spell Champ thrown over her.

She looked up into the faces of her fellow bakers. Fish and Kate just looked concerned for her. Robin and Jeremy looked horrified, trapped in their own indecision about whether to intervene. Nedley looked understanding but disappointed, while Waverly... 

Waverly looked like she was struggling with disbelief. No. Not disbelief. Fear. Waverly looked frightened.

Nicole looked away unwilling to see such an expression on Waverly’s face, especially as she knew she was the cause of it. She focussed instead on Nedley. “Sorry, Sir. I’m fine now. Thank you.” She said meekly.

“It’s all right _Officer_ Haught…” Nicole wasn’t sure if he emphasised it to remind her of her position or to emphasise her position to Champ. Either way, it further grounded her back to herself. “... we all understand.”

Champ smirked at her mercilessly. “Well, I don’t! Were you gonna try and hit me? I’d kinda like to see you try.”

“Champ! That’s enough.'' Waverly whirled on him, a tiny ball of rage and fury, and probably the scariest thing Nicole had ever seen. Even Champ seemed cowed by the sheer ferocity on display. 

“You are an insufferably boorish homophobe and I am done trying to be polite to you, and you!”

Waverly next whirled on Nicole. She noted Nedley pushed back out of the firing line of Waverly’s ire, not wanting any part of what was coming next. 

“You! Just… Urgh!” Waverly threw her hands in the air as she stood and stormed from the room, leaving heavy, suffocating air swirling in her wake.

**_Shit. Fix it. Fix it ‘Cole._ **

Unable to stop the movement of her feet, Nicole was already out the door in pursuit of her. 

“Hey, Waverly? Waverly! Stop, please? Please don’t let him chase you away…” Nicole tried to reason with her as she climbed the stairs to the minstrel’s gallery, two at a time in her haste. With Nicole’s final words echoing in the reception hall, Waverly whirled suddenly, marching back down the steps with her finger pointing out in accusation.

“I am _not_ being chased away! By Champ or anyone else!” Waverly hissed in annoyance at Nicole, taking her aback. “Don’t try and explain my own actions back at me. I don’t need protecting and I don’t need macho bullshit posturing. I don’t want a knight in a shining friggin’ stetson or whatever it is you wear on duty. I can make my own decisions, thank you very much!”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Champ told me you’re married. Is that true?” 

Once again, Waverly’s knack for a conversational U-turn felt like a sucker-punch to Nicole’s chest.

**_Oh..._ **

_...shit_

“God, if you could see your face right now.” Waverly was shaking her head in disbelief as Nicole opened and closed her mouth uselessly, sounds unable to be formed by a throat constricted in panic.

“How could we spend all that time, talking and getting to know each other and for that to just not come up in conversation? Were you _trying_ to hide it from me?”

“No, I…” She managed to choke out the beginning of an explanation but her mind was whirling, replaying every conversation over the weekend, every opportunity where Nicole had failed to say something about it. The truth was, she had simply forgotten. All thoughts of Shae, her broken marriage and impending divorce had been left behind at the docks in Horseshoe bay.

_How could I have been so stupid..._

“I feel like such an idiot. I mean, Champ is a Grade-A sack of shit but he hasn’t been walking around with a secret wife while looking at me like I was… like I was something worth looking at.”

“Waverly…”

“No. No more talking. Whatever this was… We’re done. Yeah, we’re done Nicole.”

Nicole opened her mouth to try and take it back, to say anything to turn back time and stop whatever this was from happening but the only sound that came out was a pained squeak followed by a barely audible “No. Please…”

Waverly was already gone. 

~(>_<~) ~(>_<~) ~(>_<~)

Pain. 

Indescribable pain.

What does it feel like to watch your love walk away from you, filled with an anger that you’re solely responsible for? What does it feel like to be helplessly frozen in place as it all plays out in front of you and then, all of a sudden, your ear has been grabbed and twisted painfully in an unrelenting grip designed to make you squeal like a piglet?

_It feels like this. Oh god. How did my life become this farcical?_

Nicole couldn’t move without her ear twisting even more painfully, she strained her eyes until she picked up a blurry hand, cuffed by tasseled leather reaching between the balustrades of the staircase from the banquette by the stained glass window.

“Red-Haught-Poker?” Wynonna’s voice drifted out of the dark, calm, steady and full of menace. 

“What the fuck. Did you do. To my sister?” Wynonna’s face appeared between the balustrades like a slightly less stable Jack Nicolson in The Shining. She was wearing her (cold) face but her ice-cold stare burned with fire and a barely contained fury.

“I can explain...” Nicole raised her hands, indicating surrender.

“Is it true what she just said? Are you married?” 

“Yes…”

Wynonna pulled her ear harshly, forcing Nicole into the wall of the stairs, knocking her jaw against the hard wood panelling.

“....AND NO!”

“What do you mean yes and no? Trust me when I say, this better be good Haught-shot. It better be very, very good.”

“She left me. Months ago.” Nicole felt Wynonna’s fingers squeeze her ear slightly, as if she was trying to decide how she felt about the revelation. Defeated, Nicole continued quietly as she leaned into the stairs, face pressed to the cold, unforgiving wood.

“Last week, it was just easier to say I was married when people asked because until very, very recently I felt like an abject failure when I admitted I was getting divorced. So I just avoided it. Then...last week, I finally met Waverly and…things are different now.”

Wynonna’s fingers relaxed, releasing the captive ear, but Nicole didn’t move. She didn’t run.

“Get your sorry excuse for an ass up here Haught.” Wynonna’s voice retreated back into the dark, making space for Nicole to join her.

Nicole trudged up the stairs, willing her legs to carry her ever upwards until she could collapse on the floor next to Wynonna, both women eschewing the perfectly comfortable seating on offer.

“How long were you…” Wynonna eventually spoke after a strangely comfortable few minutes just sitting in each other's company.

“Together a year, married a year, separated for a year.” Nicole replied plainly, counting off the years on her fingers before dropping her hands back into her lap.

“We met at a hospice. Her Dad was there. My Mom was there. Shae was a doctor so she was able to tell me what Mom’s doctor’s pussy-footed around. We spent long nights talking and sharing stories about our families, trying to reinforce the memories, you know? Her Dad died first. I was there for her. Mom died soon after. She was there for me. We didn’t let go when we should have. We got married instead. It was a mistake. I know that now.”

“Well, shit.” Wynonna paused for a moment. Her brow furrowed as she puzzled through an aspect of the story.

“Hang on. So your Mom died. Is that who you...on the ferry. You dropped…”

“You saw that?” Wynonna’s raised eyebrows indicated she had. “Yeah. That was Mom.”

“What the ever loving fuck were you doing giving an aqua-uber to your dead Mom?”

“She wanted to be on Bake Off.” Nicole confessed, like taking her Mom’s ashes in a pineapple shaped urn on TV was the most natural thing in the world for a daughter to want to do.

“She’s dead!”

“So?! It was on her bucket list. I’m doing all the things on her bucket list.”

“Is Waverly on your Mom’s bucket list?”

“No, why would Waverly be on…”

“So you don’t have to do her then.”

“Wynonna!”

Wynonna held her hands up in surrender, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“Oh my god, you’re such a shit.”

“Guilty as dumped.”

They lapsed into silence again, just enjoying the quiet for a minute. It was Wynonna who broke it again, needing to ask a question she sounded reluctant to ask.

“Can I ask a dumb question?”

**_Better than anyone I know._ **

“There are no dumb questions Wynonna. Shoot.”

“Why didn’t you tell her? What happened on the ferry. Why didn’t you scream at her or...”

“I’ll never tell her Wynonna. It’s done. It was an accident. There is absolutely no value or need to pass that pain along.”

Wynonna looked up, taking stock of Nicole, as if making a reassessment of her before nodding slightly. It was the closest thing to a thank you Wynonna seemed capable of. Nicole took it.

“What else happened tonight. She was yelling something about Champ?”

“Oh, yeah. Surprising no one, Champ was being a complete and utter asshole during the Tarot readings. He said some things about me, and implied some things about Waverly and I…” Nicole stared out through the window as she replayed the event in her head.

“I lost my cool. I stood up and I nearly punched him in his stupid weasly homophobic face. I’ve never done that before. At least, not since earning my badge. The look on Waverly’s face…”

She turned to look at Wynonna, her own face wracked with regret and guilt.

“Jesus. I think I really frightened her. I’m so sorry, Wynonna.”

“You nearly decked Champ? Well now I think I kinda love you Haught, but yeah. You may have frightened her a little bit.” Wynonna sighed. 

“It’s not my story to tell, but Waverly’s been through some shit in her life. We both have.”

Nicole could tell it was not an easy admission for Wynonna to make and that she would not say anything more. She felt privileged that Wynonna shared as much with her rather than just threatening her and storming off.

“She told me your mom left when she was young.”

“That’s not even half of it. Although I’m surprised she told you that much if I’m honest. Look. I’m not oblivious. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s not the same as the way Champ leers at her like she’s a conquest or something to be possessed. I believe you have genuine intentions, but if… If you really care for her, as much as those ridiculous puppy-eyes tell me you do… can you leave her be for a while?”

“Is this the shovel talk, Wy. You gonna make me disappear if I ever hurt her?” Nicole joked, a Haught-brand denial to push away the intense sense of vertigo Wynonna’s words induced. Nicole was falling. Falling off the very cliff Waverly had been worried about, and Nicole knew, there was no cake at the soggy bottom to catch her. She had fucked it up before it had even begun. There was no one to blame but herself. 

“You already hurt her, Haught. I know you didn’t mean to.” Wynonna quickly qualified as she noted Nicole’s kicked puppy expression.

“You’ve known her for a week. We both got through to next weekend. There’s time.”

Nicole nodded. Wynonna was making sense, something that somehow didn’t surprise her. Catching her eye in order to acknowledge this, Nicole saw that (cold) was long gone and (unconditional) was back, the first time that look had ever been pointed directly at her.

“Just give her a little space and she’ll come to you. I know she will.”

“How do you know?” Nicole’s voice sounded small even to her own ears, but a tiny flicker of hope slowed her descent.

“Because I’ve seen the way she looks at you too, Red. She spent three months between regionals and turning up here talking about the hot redhead she’d seen but was too shy to talk to. She literally wouldn’t shut up about you, even when I begged her. Maybe she got a fright today but her eyes tell me she thinks the sun rises and sets out of your ass.”

Nicole landed, with a quiet flumpf and squelch heard only in her mind's eye. Apparently, custard tarts catch you when you fall off cliffs at the Great British-Columbia Bake Off. She made a mental note to tell Waverly. If she ever wanted to speak to her again.

Wynonna stood and offered Nicole a hand up. “Let Waverly deal with this her own way. For now. Give her the space and time she needs, okay?”

“Deal.” Nicole shook Wynonna’s hand.

“You know, you’re alright for a gingernut, Haught.”

Nicole laughed. “You’re alright for an overbearing pain in my ass big sister, Wynonna.”

Nicole didn’t miss the pain lancing across Wynonna’s eyes.

“Well, I try Haught pants. I try. Laters.” Wynonna turned abruptly and walked away but called back “Let’s not make a habit of icky-heart-to-haughts okay?”

“Wynonna, if we ever do this again I will bring as much alcohol as your body can take.” Nicole smiled at her as Wynonna paused at the fire doors, another barely perceptible shadow passing across her face, a mirror to her younger sisters almost expertly hidden sorrow.

It passed by just as quickly. 

“I knew I liked you.” Wynonna winked and pushed through the doors firing back a final comment.

“Stop looking at my ass.”

“I’m not…” Nicole sighed. “...looking at your ass.”

Nicole remained in the banquette for a few minutes as her Mom finally decided to offer a few choice thoughts.

**_Well, as the say in Saint Olaf…_ **

_Yeah, yeah Mom._

**_Time to face the music._ **

_Weren’t you arrested for that once at a party in Chattanooga?_

Nicole stood and made her way back to the Li-BAR-y. Everything in her wanted to hide away, catch the ferry in the morning and forget about her fellow bakers for a week. But she had something important to clear up. 

**_Leave the Golden Girls quips to your elders ‘Cole ‘Cole. You’ve got a divorce to confess too._ **

_And a tarot reading to receive._

口 口 口 \\(˘_˘ \\) 

**SUMMER  
** **Broadcast of episode two,** **Biscuit Week  
** **THURSDAY**

**_Jeremy. What… Um, what happened?_ **

**_I’m so embarrassed. I ah, I put too much butter in the gingerbread mix and my little pigs all blobbed out a bit in the oven. Their legs disappeared and so now there’s just giant gingerbread pig heads._ **

**_Is that what these are? Pig heads?_ **

**_Yeah_ **. You could hear Jeremy clearing his throat, all sweet innocence, refusing to acknowledge the obvious.

“You gotta admire his commitment.” Wynonna and Nicole sat together at the Homestead, snacks and peppermint schnapps shots spread wide across the small coffee table. They were alone this week, the other bakers not able to make the long trip to Wynonna and Waverly’s hometown two weeks in a row. 

“Yep, he didn’t crack once, whereas Mary…”

“She can’t even look at them!”

Nicole sighed, grabbing her phone from the table. “I bet Twitter’s calling this one #Penisgate. Oh look! I was right. Original, Twitter. Ugh. Poor Jeremy.”

Wynonna wasn’t paying attention, absorbed in her own phone she suddenly snorted before passing the device to Nicole.

“Look at this text Waves sent me.”

 **_Angel Pants_ **😇👖  
8.11pm  
_No, I’m not watching it!  
__Fuck off Wynonna!_

“Waverly said fuck!” 

“Yeah, she’s been using it a lot lately.”

Nicole frowned. “I thought things were better between you. You know, after Bread Week”

“They are. I guess. “Wynonna replied. “Secrets are never good, eh Haught-pants?”

“It was never a secret that I was married! I just... forgot to… say anything about it, that’s all!”

“Well, you just keep telling yourself that. It’s worked out well for you so far, right?”

“We aren't talking about me. We’re talking about you and your relationship with your sister.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes, fine. Although, she is still giving me a hard time about the whole #wynhaught thing.”

“God, is the internet still obsessed with our love lives?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s become a ‘thing’.”

“Really? I’ve been offline while I’ve been working this week. What the hell Wynonna…” Nicole’s voice trailed off as she scrolled through the hashtags on Twitter. “This has blown-up into… Oh my god. Listen to these people!” 

**Take another peace** @OutOfMyHaught * 1hr  
Everyone’s all #Wynaught - but they clearly hate each other. Is this queer baiting? 

🤍 _Hit me with your best short pastry and_ _Nice ProTITeroles liked  
_**haught handled my baps** @HaughtCouture * 1hr  
Nicole is definitly gay. She’s married to a doctor at Vancover General who used to be neighbours with my cousin's first husband.

🔃 _Come on Mattie Light My Fire_ _retweeted  
_**Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits * 1hr  
Have you seen the sexual tension between her and Waverly though? You don’t need a candy thermometer to tell when the caramel’s getting sticky, if ya get what I mean.

🤍 _Cuntry Bundt Tin_ _liked_  
**Take another peace** @OutOfMyHaught * 27m  
Everyone gets what you mean @BakedOffMyTits 🙄 

“Jesus...”

“Well, hang on now. We aren’t bigger than the big J. Not yet anyway. I reckon we should just go with it.”

“No, no way. We need to clear this up Wynonna.”

“Why?”

“Because we all have to go on _Extra Slice_ soon!” 

All the bakers were contracted for at least one final television appearance on the Bake Off companion show. Filmed in secrecy on the morning of the main episode broadcast, _Extra Slice_ involved celebrity guests, blooper reels and a studio interview with that week’s exiting baker. It was then broadcast two days after the main episode went to air.

“We’ll have to address a whole bunch of things on camera if we don’t clear them up here.” She waved Twitter in Wynonna’s face. “I never talked to Waverly about how… public we were going to be. Before she left for the retreat… I didn’t, I mean, I can’t out her! That’s not…” Nicole let her hands catch her head as she slumped forward.

“Haught, you’ve got to be kidding me. You know, for a cop and the world’s biggest planner the pair of you have put a truly staggeringly small amount of thought into this. The show is already showing how much the pair of you make heart-eyes at each other. I mean… Look! There’s one!”

Nicole looked up just in time to see a cut of Waverly turning from her station and looking towards Nicole’s in the back of the tent, her face creased in a flirty smile. The camera then panned back and cut to Nicole looking away sheepishly, pink tinging her cheeks as she reached for the next ingredient.

“You know, my tarot reading has never felt more accurate to me than in this moment. Your face Haught. It’s like a little lost golden retriever puppy.”

“Excuse me? Miss ‘you’re all so dumb’ got Kate to read her Tarot after all?”

“Yeah…” Wynonna looked like she’d been caught with her arm in the Whiskey barrel.

“Shut up haught-dog. I couldn’t sleep so I went down to the bar and Kate was there, having a little moment to herself being her last night and all. She offered and I don’t know why but I said yes.”

“So what card did you draw as a signifier?”

“Hang on…” Wynonna rolled herself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen. The sound of hastily opening draws and cupboards slamming uselessly in their frames silenced a few moments later by a proud “Ah-ha! Got ‘em!”

A card sailed over Nicole’s shoulder and landed in her lap.

“Oh, no way! The Fool!”

“Yep, the Fool. I swear I nearly slapped her up and down the bar. You can stop laughing any time. Feel free.” Wynonna fell heavily back onto the couch and snatched the card out of Nicole’s hands.

“She told me this is definitely a ‘wild card’ and that makes it complex to interpret or some other convenient mumbo jumbo. Basically it symbolises embarking on a new way of life, having faith in the universe that there are people that are there for me. That I should have faith that I will get the support I need. If I let them in.”

Nicole stopped laughing. Her friend spoke in such a quiet tone, it begged for Nicole’s full attention. Then Wynonna pointed out the illustration. 

“See that?” Wynonna handed the card back to Nicole pointing at the red dog nipping at the Fool’s heels, pulling him back from the edge of a cliff. “That’s you Haught-dog.”

Nicole couldn’t help but snort “Wynonna, this dog looks like it has mange.”

“Like I said, that’s you. You’re basically like, the lonely mangy dog I adopted from a shelter.” 

“I don’t have mange!” 

“You’re still my loyal Haught-dog, and I am NOT having another fucking Heart-to-Haught with you right now, but…I um. Appreciate you, and everything.” Wynonna cleared her throat, embarrassment tingeing her cheeks. Nicole nudged her with her shoulder, avoiding eye contact but acknowledging the gesture nonetheless.

“So, confess!” Wynonna loudly pushed attention away from herself. “I never found out what your reading was.”

“Oh, um…”

“I showed you mine, so you show me yours. Come on Benji, bark for me!”

“Urgh, fine. Just quit it with the dog references, okay?”

“Sure thing Lassie. Spill it.”

Nicole stared daggers into Wynonna but it was pointless. She was wearing her relentless face. The only thing that would make her stop was to give her what she wanted.

“My signifier was ‘Justice’.”

“Oh! Boring. Next!” 

“Why boring?”

“Justice? Really? Isn't that kind of... obvious? I was sure it would’ve been the Lovers, or the Moon or even the fucking Hermit or something.”

“Champ was the Hermit.”

“What the fuck!”

“I know, right?

“So, Justice then. Tell me it has some sort of hidden, darkly comic meaning so I can be entertained by how flustered you’ll get trying to explain it to me.”

“Jesus Wy, okay, Kate said it means…”

“Wangs?”

“What? No! Ew!”

“No penis envy then?”

“No, Wynonna!”

“Okay, if you say so Rin Tin Tin.” 

“You want me to tell you or not.”

“Yes. Continue.”

“Okay, so…”

“No dicks? Anywhere? Not even one?”

“WYNONNA!”

“Not even a big olde-worldy medieval sack of airless dingadongies?”

“Okay, I’m going home…”

“Sit down Laika, I’ll behave. Jesus, you’re no fun these days.” Nicole pulled her ‘stern mom’ face, making Wynonna sit back and mime zipping up her lips. She waited a moment, sure that Wynonna would jump in with another dick reference but she remained silent, finally letting Nicole speak.

“It has a similar meaning to yours actually, in that it’s a card with ‘truth’ at the heart of it. Yours seems to be about truth of self, whereas justice is more about universal truth, and universal law. Kate said it was a Karma card, a person can only reap what they sow…”

“See! Sowing seeds. Penis reference!”

“Wy, it was about legal issues, so unless the lawyers are the dicks, you’re way off base. Kate said fairness in legal matters was paramount and I had just seen the divorce papers, so it was kind of… creepy. Then she cautioned me to rectify wrongs that needed to be righted. I had just had that big argument with Waverly and… yeah, I didn’t need some stupid card to tell me that.”

Nicole fidgeted with her hands for a moment before filling the silence laid out by Wynonna.

“It was the next cards that got me, the past, present and future ones.”

“Oh let me guess, you got a spread of cups..”

“No. Not one single card from the relationship suit. I think even Kate was surprised by that. No, they were all Pentacles, which is the one to do with money.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem right…”

“Well… it kind of was, well it was the way Kate interpreted it. They were all really close together. She said it was just like reinforcing over reinforcing that the message was about stability and protection. My past was The Knight of Pentacles representing arrivals and departures and constant changes in my feelings of security. I lost my grandmother, my mother, then my wife so that made sense. My present was the ten of Pentacles, a card that indicated a need or desire to protect but to beware the cost that might need to be paid for it.”

“Ominous.”

“Accurate.” Nicole whispered. “The next card was the nine of Pentacles. This apparently meant abundance. I have to strike a balance between protection and security in order to enjoy it.

“Hang on, wasn’t one of Waverly’s cards a Pancake one too?”

“Pentacles, Wynonna, and yeah. Waverly’s future card. It was the Queen of Pentacles.” This time, Nicole was acutely aware of how she looked. She felt the smile wrap quietly around her face. A blanket warmed from the fire in her heart at the thought of her and Waverly’s futures intertwined.

“Oh, my god, you’re insufferable. Put your dimples away Toto, we’re not in Nanaimo anymore.”

“No, we are not.” Dimples safely stored away for now, Nicole turned to the television. “We’re just on T.V.”

 **_Wynonna, I will never get over how you manage to turn disaster into triumph, I mean look at these!_ **The camera panned down to Wynonna’s tuile biscuits, all beautifully crafted into cone shapes but the filling was running out onto the display board, some dribbling over the side, others holding just enough shape for the tuile to stick up from the blobby mess.

“I will never understand how they didn’t chuck me out that week, I swear.”

“Wynonna, the tuiles were perfect, that was the main part of the showstopper requirement. You aced that part, and Kate’s just fell apart when they were touched. You deserve the praise they gave you.”

**_They’re dropped ice-creams, Paul. They’re supposed to look like that._ **

**_36 dropped ice-creams?_ **

**_Yeah, and 36 disappointed, howling toddlers. Listen, can you hear them?_ **Wynonna cupped her ear as if listening intently and tiny little screams were indeed heard.

“Thanks for the assist, there Balto.”

“It was me and Jeremy. I’m glad they kept that in ‘cos we both got told off by that bitch director later.”

“Really? But that was so funny!”

“I know. Always gotcha back Wy” She gave her a blind high five before falling silent again.

“You wanna know what my future card was?” Wynonna interrupted, a smug grin on her face.

“ _Do_ I wanna know?”

“Oh, you definitely do. It was the Queen of Swords.”

“Wow, I can see you with a sword actually, cutting a swath through Paul’s patriarchal bullshit.” Nicole mimed a thrust and parry as his face appeared on screen, frowning at Nicole’s own lackluster tuiles.

“I would totally rock a sword. I want a flaming one. Kate said the Queen of Swords was a formidable figure of power and authority.” Wynonna frowned as Nicole couldn’t contain the snort that followed. “Hey! It’s the card of a strong independent woman who has a trial ahead of her but enduring it will lead to new vistas and ultimate happiness, so take your derision - and yes, I have been reading the dictionary thank-you very much - and stuff it down your collar Bobby the wonder dog!”

“I’m sorry, that’s a great card actually.”

“Yeah, well I need that kind of positive energy in my life right now.” She looked down at the unmistakable roundness of her belly, hands unconsciously rubbing calming circles around the baby inside.

“You’re going to be a great Mom, Wynonna.”

“I know. I’m a god-damned superhero, Haught and you’re going to spend years letting this tiny rug-rat ride on your shoulders like the loyal, mangy companion you are.”

“I don’t have mange.”

“Whatever, Aunty Nicole. We both pulled truth cards. You can’t hide shit from me.”

“Ain’t that the truth, Wynonna. Ain’t that the truth.”

∪＾ェ＾∪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did an actual tarot read for every damn character and I swear, I CHANGED NOTHING! The cards I describe are exactly as they fell for each of them. 
> 
> Then I did mine, and guess who drew Death?
> 
> Twice. 
> 
> Tarot: TRanSForm.  
> Me: wOt? NoW? OKay...


	4. Harper Valley P.T.A.rmigan Pie (by Jeannie C. Rillettes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which bread is baked, Wynonna is floored by a poorly timed Golden Girls quote, and an accident throws the entire tent into disarray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I will accept the Nobel Peace Prize for novelty title writing, please and thank you.
> 
> (TW: Brief mentions of death/cancer.)

_“_

_...you have the nerve to tell me  
_ _You think that as a mother I'm not fit  
_ _Well, this is just a little Peyton Place  
_ _And you're all Harper Valley hypocrites_

_“_

**BREAD WEEK**

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
**Music ‘Bakewell Counting’ plays. A sweeping, dramatic aerial shot of the tent. The camera swoops down from the treeline towards the entrance before cutting to several shots of sinking bread dough, bakers nicking their fingers as they cut dough into even portions and trays falling to the ground with giant clangs.

 **SUE  
** (Voiceover)  
This week, on the Great British Columbia Bake Off. Disaster unfolds in the tent.

 **DOLLS  
**Oh this is not good...

 **WYNONNA  
**Oh, Mother [Bleep]er!

 **JEREMY  
**Oh, ahhhhh, AH! ARRRRGHHHH

 **SUE  
** (Voice over continues)  
While some bakers tackle Bread week like they were born for it...

 **NEDLEY  
**Oh. Actually that’s turned out quite nicely in the end.

 **CHAMP  
**I didn’t even put gluten in this.

 **SUE  
** (Voice over continues)  
Distraction reigns.

 **CUT. NICOLE’S STATION  
**Nicole taps at a lid made of plastic cling film pulled tightly across a Mason Cash mixing bowl.

 **NICOLE  
** (Whispering)  
Come on, come on, come on. I wish you would talk to me...

 **MEL  
** (Smugly)  
Are you talking to me or your bread dough?

Nicole spins, looking behind her at Waverly’s station for the briefest of moments, then returns her attention to Mel.

 **NICOLE  
**Ah, yeah. I can’t get a decent rise out of it.

 **MEL  
** (Smirking)  
Said the Actress to the Bishop. I’ll um… I’ll see myself out.

Mel walks away, cheekily raising her eyebrows to the camera, breaking the fourth wall.

 **SUE  
** (Voice over continues)  
And others’ bad luck turns the entire tent into chaos. 

**CUT.  
**Wide shot of the tent. Music changes to ‘Final Destination’. The camera is jostled as bodies move quickly towards the back of the tent, obscuring what is happening. The camera pans around to the shocked faces of the bakers. Mattie is clearly affected and in shock. Champ looks frightened. Wynonna can be seen helping Dolls to his feet. Panning from right to left, paramedics shuffle around Waverly, Jeremy, Nicole and Nedley who are all bustled from the tent. It’s not clear who is assisting who, but seconds later, Waverly walks back onto the tent, clearly dazed. She looks at her hands. They’re covered in blood.

 **CUT.  
**Opening theme of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off plays.

**SPRING  
** **Gardner Estate Grounds, Nanaimo  
** **SATURDAY**

Nicole ran.

It was filming day and Nicole had woken early, following Dolls through the meandering gardens to the tracks in the woods on the edge of the Gardner Estate. There was just enough light to run safely, with a cool breeze promising to ease what was sure to be an uncomfortably hot spring morning.

They had been running loops through the tracks, Nicole pushing herself ever faster, hoping somehow that the exertion might temper her frustrations. She passed Dolls many times as he took a more measured, even approach to the morning. 

The sun finally breached the horizon and Nicole knew that she would have to stop and retreat to the dining hall for the group breakfast, where she would have to see Waverly again for the first time since last week. She picked up her pace, determined to finish the loop, maybe squeeze one more in and delay the inevitable for just a few more minutes.

She didn’t know why she was trying to avoid actually seeing Waverly. She saw her every time she closed her eyes. She saw the look of horror on her face as she’d lost her temper at Champ. She saw the look of finality in her eyes as she had dismissed Nicole in the reception hall. She saw Waverly everywhere.

She didn’t see the rock that caused her foot to slide out from under her at speed. 

She did see the dirt rapidly approaching her face as she failed to get her arms underneath her in time. 

Thanks to the thin layer of sweat covering every inch of her, dirt stuck doggedly to skin, smearing all over her face and arms as she tried to brush herself off before Dolls appeared round the corner.

_Fuck you universe! Stupid… rocks._

**_Yes, because the universe regularly moves rocks just to put them in your way. Just like that tree you nearly walked into in the park last week while you were daydreaming about a certain brunette. It jumped right in front of you, didn’t it?_ **

_Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Mother._

**_Darlin’ I invented this shit. Pick yourself up. (Staunch) is coming._ **

Resigned to her fate, Nicole sat in the dirt as Dolls jogged up to her.

“Having an argument with the ground, Haught?” He came to a stop nearby, stretching a hamstring on a fence post.

“It was insulting your chicken-shit pace Dolls. I couldn’t let it slide so...pow.”

“You punched the ground with your face?”

“Yep. It’s what I do now apparently. Action first, thoughts later.”

“Well that’ll teach the ground a thing or two I suppose. Come on. Let’s get you back so you’ve got time to shower, eat and get that cut stitched up before the circus starts.”

Dolls pointed to the side of Nicole’s face. Raising her hand to her head, she suddenly noticed the trickle of blood sliding down past her ear, dripping pointlessly into the dirt.

“Here.” Dolls pulled out an old sweat band from a hidden pocket in his jacket. “It’s mostly clean.”

“Thanks Dolls. It’ll do.” She accepted the hand up as she tried to stem the bleeding. It wasn’t serious but being a head wound it was putting on a dramatic show.

Nicole winced as she stood but was thankful her ankle seemed alright. She hadn’t twisted it so the only injury seemed to be the cut on her head, and her wounded pride. She fell into an easy gait next to Dolls as they walked back towards Crofte Castle.

Their companionable silence was broken by Dolls as, in the distance, they saw Mattie walking in from her boat moored at the little boat shed further down the bay.

“Thoughts Haught?” Dolls nodded in Matties direction.

“She’s cool, I think. Just not used to people.”

“I wonder why she auditioned to go on TV and put up with all this?” Dolls seemed genuinely perplexed.

Nicole laughed, “Yeah, I asked her that. She said her sister dared her to do it. Plus she figured it might raise the profile of her forge a little. I think it was mostly wanting to stick it to her sister though.”

Dolls laughed at Mattie’s reasoning. It was quite an odd sound.

“What about you Dolls? Why are you here?” Nicole hoped it wasn’t too forward a question but thankfully Dolls seemed open to sharing.

“Well, it’s a similar story really. Some of the boys at the rehab centre enjoyed the baking I would bring in for them. They bet me I wouldn’t make it through auditions so I kind of had to prove them wrong.”

Nicole had noticed his odd running style so guessed his ‘rehab’ was injury related. He caught her looking but freely offered an explanation.

“Two tours to Afghanistan. Caught the edge of an IED explosion in the vehicle ahead of me. They were able to rebuild my leg but it’s taken a lot of hard work.”

Nicole nodded in acknowledgment.

“After my service, I got a degree in sports science and it’s led to all sorts of opportunities for me. I got into cricket big time while I served there. Now I’m the strength and conditioning coach for the Canadian women’s cricket team. Well, I will be. I take up my new post whenever I’m done here. They’ve been very accommodating.”

Nicole was impressed.

“Now it’s your turn. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to honour my mom. For the longest time it was just me and her against the world. When she got sick, we would sit and watch Bake Off together during her chemo rounds. She told me she’d love to go on it one day, and uh… then she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay.”

**_NO IT’S NOT! I’m dead and living in a rusty, salt encrusted pineapple thanks to the so-called love of your life. What exactly is FINE about that Nicole!_ **

Ignoring her Mom’s voice, Nicole merely shrugged her shoulders, unused to being able to talk about it. “It’s been years now.”

“I’m still sorry, Haught.”

“Thanks Dolls.”

“Now tell me about Waverly.”

“What?” Nicole felt her brain misfire at hearing her name outside the confines of her own skull.

“You heard me. When are you gonna make your move?”

“My ‘move’? This isn’t high school Dolls!”

“Come on. You told me you’re getting divorced. What’s stopping you?”

“What’s stopping you making a ‘move’ on Wynonna?” Nicole deflected with an over exaggerated expression of interest.

“Okay, so this is the way back right? Let’s go.” Dolls picked up his pace, effectively ending their conversation. Nicole merely shook her head at her deluded friend, and smiled.

They took the gentler route through the Italian gardens rather than the sheer stone stairs up the tiered lawns to the castle. Nicole told Dolls the milder rise would be better for her slightly dizzy head, but mostly she wanted to avoid the possibility of bumping into Waverly and Wynonna doing their morning yoga.

But, the Universe and everything. 

Waverly was sitting in the stone loggia encircling the Italian gardens, her yoga mat tightly rolled and lying at her feet. Her knees were drawn up and encircled by her arms just like they had been the evening they talked in the banquette. She was hidden from view so neither Dolls nor Nicole trailing after him saw her until after she spoke.

“What the…?”

Jumping in fright, Nicole turned quickly just as Waverly unfolded herself and almost leaped on her.

“What happened? Oh my god there’s blood everywhere…” She picked at Nicole’s sports top, grabbing her elbow to lift her arm slightly in search for further injuries.

“It’s okay, I just had an argument with a rock. Cut my head. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing! Dolls, what happened?”

“She just fell…”

“I did not just ‘fall’, the ground was impinging on Dolls’ honor so…”

“So you had to stick your head in, huh?”

Nicole frowned, having no comeback for Waverly, who was frowning right back at her but with more righteousness than should be possible in a face usually filled with sunshine and joy.

“Okay, I’m going to run ahead and find a production medic. You guys do, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Dolls, no. I don’t want to draw attention to this. Look! It’s stopped bleeding.” Nicole removed the old sweatband only to find more blood oozing from the cut.

“Let me look.” Waverly was insistent.

“It’s fine…”

“Nicole! Bend your giant ginger giraffe neck down here right now!” 

Finding herself instantly complying with Waverly’s demand she only heard Dolls’ soft chuckle as he left “Have it your way Haught, or rather, do whatever Waverly tells you okay?”

“Stuff it Dolls!” She threw a half-hearted finger after his retreating form as she bent over, with Waverly’s hand taking control of the sweatband, her fingers gently picking her hair out of the cut.

“This really needs a couple of stitches, Nicole.”

“No.”

“No? What, you scared?”

“No, I just don’t want to make a fuss…”

“Well, I can do this for you. If you want.” Waverly stepped back allowing Nicole to right herself. Waverly’s eyes held nothing but concern, all her earlier annoyance drained as her eyes locked on the wound.

“You can do stitches? Really?”

“Yeah. I volunteered at the animal shelter back home. They have, like, no resources so I taught myself from online videos.”

“You taught yourself how to do…yep, um. Don’t take this the wrong way but, uh. No thanks.”

“Nicole Haught. Take my room key and go and wait in the bathroom while I get a few supplies right the fuck now or I am going to drag you through the dining room and make the biggest scene imaginable!”

Waverly thrust the plastic room card at Nicole and abruptly walked away, giving Nicole no room to argue.

_Holy shit. Waverly said ‘fuck’._

**_Nicole, if you don’t marry this girl one day, I’m going to…_ **

_Mom…_

**_I mean seriously…_ **

_Mom!_

**_I totally get the assertive lesbian thing now._ **

_MOM!_

But Nicole’s feet were already moving, full compliance the only logical option to a direct command from Waverly Earp.

☆⌒(>。<)

The short walk from the gardens, cutting through the Li-BAR-y and up the stairs towards the room Waverly shared with her sister took both thirty seconds and thirty years to complete. She walked there on autopilot as her brain flip-flopped, turning over what was happening so many times, her thoughts had become severely overdone flapjacks. 

_What the hell am I doing?_

Her last thought before she used the keycard and opened the door reverberated around her head like a shotgun blast as she stepped into the room.

She wasn’t alone. 

A half dressed Wynonna stood in front of a full length mirror, top raised and tucked under her bra as her hands gently caressed what looked to Nicole like the first signs of a developing baby belly.

“Jesus Christ Haught!” Wynonna whipped the top down but it was too late. Nicole had seen what she had seen. She quickly entered the room so she could shut the door behind her, returning a small degree of privacy to the room.

“Sure, come in why don’t ya!” Wynonna rolled her eyes with exasperation.

“Uh, is that...?”

“Is ‘that’ what, Haught? My new Demi Moore Vanity Fair cover cosplay? It’s a baby, doofus. My baby.”

“Um, okay. This is… Wow. Does Waverly know?” Nicole almost whispered the question, leaning in conspiratorially as if someone might overhear them.

“No. I haven’t told her yet…”

“Well that’s a pretty impressive bump you’ve started. You’re not going to be able to…” Nicole mimed hiding a belly under her clothes completely ineffectually. “...for much longer.”

“No shit Sher-cop. What the fuck are you doing in my room!”

“I’m sorry. Waverly sent me up here, to ah…” She removed the now soaked sweatband, showing Wynonna the wound but before she could explain further a knock on the door announced Waverly’s return making both women jump. “Nicole? Can you let me in?”

“Don’t Haught. Please.” Wynonna whispered in desperation.

“I have to let her in Wy…” 

Wynonna shook her head from side to side vehemently refusing Nicole’s logic. “She’ll go away if we’re very _very_ quiet.”

“No she won’t, dipshit! She’s here to fix my head!” Nicole pointed to the dried blood caked to her face as she whisper-yelled at the more infuriating of the Earps.

“Nicole? You’ve got my keycard…” Waverly huffed from the otherside of the door and resumed her banging.

“I’m gonna…”

“No, Haught!”

“Wynonna! I have to…”

“No!” Wynonna had grabbed her arm in a surprisingly effective death grip, but she’d underestimated Nicole’s reach. Sensing her impending loss, Wynonna let go and grabbed an oversized jersey, throwing it over herself as Nicole opened the door.

“Oh. You’re both here. Did you not hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry babygirl. I was...in...the bathroom. Yeah. Big stinkeroonies in there. I wouldn’t go in if I were you. Phew!” She couldn’t have looked more guilty if she tried. Nicole mimed slitting her throat behind Waverly’s back, incredulous at Wynonna’s inability to not look guilty.

“Ew, Wynonna! We need to go in there...wait, so why couldn't _you_ hear me?” Waverly had turned her attention to Nicole. Suddenly put on the spot, she panicked.

“Oh. I was… in the bathroom too?” Behind Waverly’s back it was Wynonna’s turn to mime out her incredulity, mouthing the words ‘ _shut your goddamn mouth_ ’ at Nicole, her face mimicking Edvard Munch’s ‘Scream’.

“Oh...okay. I don’t think I want to unpack that, so...let’s just go to your room okay?”

Waverly tugged on Nicole’s sleeve before she left. As Nicole moved to follow, Wynonna hissed at her back. “You’re some kind of moron Haught!”

Nicole leaned back into the room to hiss back at her “Yeah? Well heaven help your gynecologist!” before slamming the door behind her.

Hurrying past the Garden of Eden window to the other wing of the castle, Nicole found Waverly standing impatiently outside her door.

“Wow, you sure move fast.” Nicole tried to joke but the serious look on Waverly’s face caused her to immediately back track. “I um, sorry. I kind of walked in on your sister and it was all very, unbelievably, mortifyingly awkward and…”

Waverly’s face relaxed at Nicole’s explanations. “It’s okay. I should be used to Wynonna’s antics by now. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Let’s just see to this so we can go eat, okay?” 

Nicole unlocked the door to the room she shared with Dolls, and shuffled into the bathroom behind Waverly. The stark white tiling in the room gave off a harsh reflective light, reaching every corner and cranny, eliminating all shadows. Taking a seat on the closed toilet, Nicole struggled to think of conversational small talk as nothing she could think of bent around the elephant in the room. 

The silence between them grew, thick and heavy. Waverly filled the sink with warm water and a small amount of disinfectant. A cloth gently wiped across Nicole’s face, cleansing the dirt. Nicole’s eyes followed every movement Waverly’s hand made, even though it made her feel cross eyed. If she didn’t, she would have looked at her face again and Nicole was done with seeing disappointment writ there. She was done with seeing it in her eyes when they caught and held her own.

“Lean over the sink please? I need to flush it…”

Nicole leaned over dutifully, resting her cheek on the cold porcelain while Waverly twisted the top off a saline tube. She tried not to hiss at the sting of the saltwater washing through the cut and into her hairline. Waverly’s hands were tender but firm, making sure nothing dribbled forward into her eyes.

The blood was still seeping from the cut but had started to clot rather than flow freely. “I thought I might try these steri-strip things first.” Waverly waved a packet in front of Nicole. “You know, seeing as you were such a big baby about the thought of me sticking you with a needle.” 

Nicole didn’t say anything, afraid of what her voice might reveal. She just smiled, allowing Waverly to work with the fiddly plasters.

“You didn’t come to Yoga this morning.” Waverly asked softly as she leaned in to place the first strip to Nicole’s head. “I didn’t see you at dinner or the ferry yesterday either.”

“No, I...figured you needed some space, after...” Nicole couldn’t bring herself to actually mention the last time they spoke. Well, Waverly yelled and Nicole took it, deserving every angry word the smaller woman had thrown at her.

“Look. I’m not mad at you...”

Nicole must have hidden her look of incredulity very poorly, as Waverly quickly jumped in “Well, I’m not mad at you anymore. Stop frowning! I can’t do this with your worry wrinkle showing up like that.”

“Sorry.” Nicole replied meekly. 

“Wynonna told me about your wife. I should’ve let you explain instead of getting so worked up about it. So _I’m_ the one who’s sorry. Okay?”

Nicole tried to be happy with Waverly’s apology but she couldn’t feel it. Maybe because Waverly’s eyes suggested it wasn’t entirely true. Maybe because Nicole didn’t agree she hadn’t anything to apologise for.

Waverly’s voice continued on, oblivious to Nicole’s roiling thoughts. “Can we just talk, like we did last week? Before all this.” Waverly waved her hand between their bodies. “I really need that back. I need…a friend.”

_Friend?_

_Oh._

Waverly looked uncertain, like she had forced the request past her lips in order to restore her comfort zone even though she knew it might be hurtful for Nicole to hear. 

And boy, did it hurt.

“Sure. Whatever you want, Waverly.”

_Whatever you need._

(╥﹏╥) (╥﹏╥) (╥﹏╥)

Nicole frowned at her recalcitrant bread dough. The muscles in her face pulled at the steri-strips, making the cut sting but thankfully they were doing a good job holding her skin together and keeping her blood on the inside of her body where it belonged.

She raised her fingers absentmindedly to her forehead, just pulling back from contaminating them by touching the wound.

“Hey, I hear chicks dig scars.” Jeremy leaned over from his workstation directly in front of Nicole’s. He had already rolled, cut and twisted his signature couronne and had it proving in the warming draw while Nicole was stuck on rolling her dough into the right shape. She was in danger of overworking it and her constant lapses in concentration were not helping.

“You think it’ll scar?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. Dolls said you tried to beat up a rock?”

“Other way round.” Nicole confessed, unable to unlock her face from frowning.

“Hardcore.”

“What’s up Jeremy.” He seemed pensive, looking around to check if the cameras were otherwise occupied.

“I just wanted to check in with you. You seem a little, um. Well I kind of have this weird ability that lets me know when my friends are hurt, or sad and right now you’re, like, pumping out sadness vibes.”

“Pumping… sadness? Jeremy. What?”

“I mean, you and Waverly are like, très awkward today. Did something happen?”

“Jeremy, that’s very sweet but there’s just nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, my groin says there’s something going on.” Nicole just stared at Jeremy, watching his social stammering unfurl inexorably as he verbalised his thoughts in the same moment they were created.

“Oh, god - it’s not an attraction groin thing! No way. I mean, sorry, but ew.” He flapped his hands in her direction to punctuate his disgust but immediately realised how rude that sounded.

“I mean. No. You are clearly gorgeous. For a girl. You are a girl, and..”

“Jeremy. Stop talking. Everything’s fine. Waverly wants to be friends. We’re friends. It’s fine.”

“Ohhhh, you got friend zoned. That explains the sadness vibe.”

“I do not have a sadness vibe Jeremy. Unless it’s sadness that my dough is shrinking before my eyes. Distract me from this impending disaster. Tell me you had better luck with Robin before Bulshar gets back.” 

She flicked her eyes over to the camera crew filming Bunny in the distance. The larger of the two set cameras had a ‘Bulshar’ brand decal running along its side so the name had become unofficial code among the bakers for the sneaky intrusive camera crew.

“Robin is amazing! We went on a 72 hour long first date!”

“Really? That’s awesome! Tell me more!” Nicole was genuinely pleased and more than a little jealous of the man. She listened intently as he described the restaurant and bar they had visited in Nanaimo last week and how he had come back to the island early and spent a few days at Robin’s before filming. Things seemed to be moving quickly for him and his happiness was practically exploding from his face as he finally had the chance to talk to someone about it.

“He’s just so intuitive, you know? Like this one time, I turned around and he had a bowl of fries in his hands, just for me! Like he could sense I really needed to ingest starch and so he provided.”

“Jeremy, that’s probably the weirdest yet softest story anyone has ever told me.” Nicole looked up to smile at him but her attention was caught by something else. “Shit, Bulshar alert. Plus, incoming Sue Perkins. Scramble!” she whispered at him.

Nicole continued to spread the sugary mix of cinnamon, walnuts and apricots across her dough as Sue sidled up to her.

“Did I miss something?” Sue asked with faux innocence. “The two of you look like you’ve got all the hot goss. Perhaps about a certain hours long date with a certain overly long young man who is currently organising long overdue coffee and tea breaks for everyone?” Sue pointedly looked over her glasses towards the back of the tent where Robin was pushing about a tea cart. Her lips pursed in wry amusement as Jeremy suddenly found himself lost for words.

“You’re too late Sue. Story time’s over.” Nicole tried to shoo her away and spare her friends blushes as Robin and the cart inched ever closer.

Sue groaned next to her. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your work then. It’s better to be late than…” Before Sue could finish, Nicole blurted out an inappropriate end to the sentence.

“Pregnant?”

The Universe loves a bad joke. 

Nicole’s instinctual Golden Girls quote dropped at the exact moment Wynonna walked past her station with a stack of freshly washed mixing bowls from the back of the tent.

Wynonna stumbled, juggling the bowls unsuccessfully. They fell, thankfully bouncing on the soft floor of the tent rather than shattering but the damage had been done. Sue had reached out instinctively to try and catch hold of Wynonna as she stumbled, grabbing her around the waist.

“Holy mother…are you?” Sue asked before she could think better of the question.

But Wynonna’s full attention was boring into Nicole. 

“It’s a Golden Girls quote!” She blurted out hurriedly “I swear, I wasn’t... I mean… Shit!” 

**_You can’t see me ‘Cole, because you know. I’m dead, inside an urn at the bottom of the sea. Which is basically a Russian doll of suckage. But you couldn’t pay me to swap places with you._ **

“Oh, I remember that one!” Waverly walked up to join in the conversation and check on her sister, all four of them forgetting about the camera’s. The operators had withdrawn slightly hoping for exactly that effect. “Blanche was on a game show, right?” Waverly was smiling at the joke but seemed to quickly cotton on to the tension. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, everyone’s pretending they didn’t know Wynonna was pregnant but we all knew that, right? Right? It’s obvious?” Jeremy joined the group looking incredulously around the tent as every single one of the bakers had stopped what they were doing, mouths agape as they stared at the back of the tent. “Ohhhh, was that a secret?”

“How did _you_ know, jagged little nerd?” A desperate Wynonna whirled on him.

“Wait, it’s true?” Waverly looked like her world was collapsing. Her eyes filled with tears while her mouth fluttered between smiling in joy and hanging open in disbelief that this was how she was finding out she was going to be an Aunt. “That’s what the doctor’s appointments...that’s what you’ve been hiding? You’re not sick, you’re…pregnant?

Wynonna could only manage a nod in response.

“And you knew?” She looked at Jeremy. Nicole felt her lungs grow heavy in her chest as they refused to suck in any air, as if somehow not breathing could pause the moment and prevent the next from ever coming.

“And you?” Waverly looked at Nicole. It was a repeat of last week. The disappointment. The disbelief. “Okay…” Waverly’s final word was delivered almost silently. It dropped into the stillness of the tent, followed by the final molecules of oxygen in her lungs. 

Waverly turned slowly and walked back towards her station. 

“Waverly…” Wynonna moved to follow her sister, but a very clear and angry call of ‘Later.’ stopped her in her tracks.

The noise of an oven timer pinging broke the pall over the tent. The other bakers returned to their work in silence, leaving Wynonna in the middle of the tent staring daggers of ice into both Jeremy and Nicole.

“Thanks Tweedle ‘dumb’ and Tweedle ‘douche’.” Wynonna snarled, staring at them both for a second more before turning back to her own workstation.

Watching Earps walk away from her was becoming an awful, repetitive event Nicole could not escape from no matter how she tried. 

┬┴┬┴┤(·_├┬┴┬┴

Nicole tried to apologise to Wynonna after filming, and although she appeared less angry, Wynonna had still firmly rebuffed her.

“This is a family thing, okay. Just…butt out.”

Her words stung but she couldn’t argue with them. It was true. 

The Earp sisters needed time and space to talk. Which was easier said than done. The accidental revelation had caused a cavalcade of production bigwigs to descend on the estate from some sort of invisible pocket universe. They were sequestered away in the judge's mini-tent along with both Wynonna and Waverly. 

All Nicole could do was stare forlornly from a distance in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Waverly, to see if she was okay. Her only success was a flash of a hand firmly tucked into her armpit, and a brief glimpse of a tightly clenched jaw.

“The Earps are like steel.” Mattie walked up behind her, the gentle spring breeze brushing at her thin braids, gently moving through the rest of her hair over her shoulder. She looked ethereal, self-assured, like nothing could ever touch her unless she willed it to be so. 

“And the tent. This experience…” Mattie waved her outstretched palm around, changing Nicole’s focus from being hyper-fixated on the tent in the distance to the Gardner property in general. “...is the forge in which they will be made or broken.”

**_What the fuck does this Gendry-swapped blacksmith know about the Earps?_ **

_Probably more than me at this point Mom._

Nicole sighed, offering nothing to the memory of her Mom nor to Mattie. 

“Steel is hardened by heating it in the all consuming fire of the forge, beyond the point at which it can hold its original shape. It is made malleable, beaten, pulled and changed before being cooled quickly when plunged into water. But steel that is hardened quickly like this, is also brittle, liable to shatter under stress.” Mattie turned to look at Nicole as she elaborated.

“Hard but brittle steel can be, shall we say, ‘improved’ by tempering. If its temperature is raised, but not high enough to melt, the brittleness is neutralised so long as the steel can cool slowly in the air. Tempered steel is nigh on unbreakable.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicole was growing exasperated.

“I haven’t known them, or you, for very long but I can recognise pain when I see it.” Mattie looked back towards the mini-tent just as Waverly and Wynonna exited and began the trek back up the hill towards the Castle. “They look like they’ve been in the forge a long, long time. The question is, are you more fire, are you water, or are you air?”

“I still have no damn idea what you mean to say to me.” Nicole swallowed, her mouth dry as if they were speaking in a real forge surrounded by cloying, inescapable heat.

“Nothing.” Mattie said lightly, like her words truly had no other meaning than idle chit-chat. “And everything. Maybe I just like to talk about metal?” Mattie turned on her heel, leaving Nicole to her thoughts as Wynonna and Waverly climbed the stone stairs towards her.

Wynonna had her arm around her sister. They were sharing a smile with whatever their conversation held. Feeling every inch the outsider, confused by a sudden sense of not belonging, Nicole turned too before the Earps could reach the top. 

┬┴┬┴| _·)├┬┴┬┴

“Okay, listen up bakerbitches.” Wynonna dramatically tapped her wine glass before standing up on her chair as dinner was being served by the staff in the dining hall.

“Oh, language!” But Bunny seemed alone in her offence.

“Fine, Ladies and Gentlejerks then.” The chair wobbled slightly as she made a crude hand gesture, causing both Nicole and Waverly to lurch towards her from either side, trying to steady her. They shot each other concerned looks across Wynonna’s knees before their eye contact became awkward and needlessly tense.

“I’m going to make this short. Yes. I am pregnant. Yes, I know who the dad is. I think. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do. Anyway. No, I am not in a relationship with him. Yes, I will be raising my baby myself. Also, no, this is not wine. I bribed the bartender here to give me non-alcoholic looky-likey drinks every time I went to the bar.” She tapped her head indicating her pride at her smarts.

“Now, you’re all covered by confidentiality clauses you signed and Bake Off Productions can add to that list at any time. We can’t reveal who leaves the tent, or who wins star baker each week and as of right now, none of you can talk about my pregnancy or my baby to people outside of these four walls either.”

“Yeah, that seems fair Wynonna. You can count on us. I mean, from now on.” Jeremy looked like Nicole felt, with guilt written all over his face at his part in the accidental reveal of Wynonna’s private business on camera.

“Well, I don’t see how you can keep it a secret for long _Ms._ Earp.” Bunny’s haughty tone carried across the room, silent now as everyone waited with bated breath for Wynonna’s reaction. Her mother’s thoughts were a fraction of a second faster.

**_What an incorrigible bitch..._ **

“Oh, I don’t have to keep secrets if I don’t want to Bun Bun. Waverly and I are exempt from the clause. We can choose to reveal or not reveal as we see fit, whatever works for us as a family. I’m gonna get to write my own story, capiche?”

Wynonna’s declaration was met with a stunned silence until Jeremy, bless his heart, changed the mood with a single utterance.

“To little baby Earp!” He didn’t have a drink so he raised his bread roll instead, grinning from ear to ear. 

“To little baby Earp!” the other bakers joined him, each raising their bread rolls to toast the impending new arrival. Wynonna raised her own in acknowledgement, unknowingly completing the symbolic moment by breaking the bread in half and taking a bite. Nicole noted Bunny abstained. Her mouth was twisted in a thin lipped, judgemental grimace.

Wynonna jumped down from the chair with far more deftness than she had for her ascent, throwing her hair over her shoulder in a dramatic flick before plomping herself down.

“Well, that’s all sorted then.” She said with finality as she leaned over and began aggressively attacking the food on her plate. 

_Is it though?_

Nicole could see Waverly was having similar thoughts, judging by the height her eyebrows just reached towards the sky.

“Well, I know you and I still have a lot of talking to do baby girl. And we will. When we get home. Promise.”

For once, Nicole wished she wasn’t sitting anywhere near the Earps. She’d been feeling like a trespasser all day, witnessing moments that weren’t meant for her. She was an outsider, an interloper and meant no more to these irrepressible sisters than any other of the bakers and yet she was drawn to them. A moth to a flame riding the air currents disturbed by their heat.

**_Mattie’s turned you all philosophical…_ **

_Mom, not now_

**_When then? Why would I interject if I didn’t think you needed poking?_ **

Nicole had no answer to that. Which was stupid because she was only really arguing with herself.

**_The Earps chose you, you know. They talk to you more than anyone else here. Waverly clearly likes you, even if it’s just as a friend. Wynonna confided in you too. Stop trying to analyse the meaning of everything and just…_ **

_What, Mom? ‘Just’ what?_

**_Live. Enjoy the moment rather than trying to figure out where it ‘leads’ or what its purpose is. Be their friend. Be Dolls’ friend. And Jeremy’s and Nedley’s. Kick Champ in the balls at least once before this is over. Please. I beg you. Do it for me. You love me right?_ **

Nicole chuckled out loud at her imaginary ‘mom’ thought.

“Hey, there she is.” Nicole startled as Waverly crouched down between Wynonna and Nicole’s chairs. She gently touched Nicole’s arm as she sought her attention. Nicole had been lost in her reverie and hadn’t noticed most of the bakers had finished dinner and were retiring to the bar, Wynonna included.

“Here I am.” Nicole responded plainly. Waverly’s surprise appearance was having a somewhat alarming effect on Nicole. She felt an unnerving heat radiate throughout her body from where their arms touched. 

_Fire. Hot enough to melt steel..._

Waverly’s small voice almost whispered to her. “You’ve been real quiet all day. Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure Waverly. Now?”

_Water. Fast acting, dramatic clouds of steam, Steel hardened…_

“Now would be good. Is that okay?”

“Of course, but uh, maybe we could walk?” The dining hall was beginning to feel stuffy, claustrophobic. Waverly’s body and touch were entirely too close. Too close for ‘just friends’.

_Air. Slow burn, patient, quiet, tempered, steel strengthened._

**_Fine, ignore my advice then. Search for meaning in nothing. See if I care._ **

Waverly led Nicole on a slow amble through the wisteria laden loggia. It was a beautiful spot, intimate and welcoming. The sort of place lovers could sequester themselves away from the noise and hubbub of an evening party. The stone walls of the walkway encircled the gardens, small statues hidden throughout made Nicole feel like she’d stepped into the past and would soon come across Romans giggling with gossip in a corner.

Waverly remained silent, as if waiting for the right moment to say what she wanted to say and Nicole was content to be patient. Instead, she stole quick looks, noticing how Waverly’s hair captured the evening sun, seemingly aflame with golden highlights. Her face held tension, concentrated in her jaw and her hands, once again were tucked into her arms. Waverly was nervous.

_Nervous to be with me? To be alone with me? I still scare her?_

“How’s the cut?” Waverly’ suddenly interjected, breaking apart Nicole’s thoughts. Her eyes were fixed on Nicole’s face, seemingly determined not to look into her eyes.

“It’s fine, I think. I’ll have to leave these on for filming continuity tomorrow.” She pointed up at the steri-strips. “But I don’t think I need them anymore. What about you? How are you?” 

Nicole poured as much emotion into the question as she could. Not by choice but because the answer felt central to her well being. She _needed_ to know that Waverly was okay.

“Oh, well today has been… a LOT!” She laughed aloud at that, the sound growing as Nicole smilled next to her. “I mean, my sister. The least subtle Earp of all the Earps in history has managed to keep the fact that she’s seventeen weeks pregnant a secret from everyone in Purgatory, even me, and I’m normally the smartest person in the room!”

“Wait, wait wait. Hold up.” Nicole stopped walking, forcing Waverly to stop and turn to look at her. “She’s seventeen weeks pregnant?” _Seventeen_ weeks!”

“Yup!”

“Jesus! she’s tiny for seventeen weeks, right? Did she have a lung removed or what?”

Waverly’s laughter rippled through Nicole’s body to warm her soul.

“I’m so angry with her.” Waverly’s words jarred with the laughter still present in her voice. “So angry, but… I’m going to be an Aunt!” Waverly did a little dance of excitement, not unlike her own victory dance that used to embarrass her mother. Before she could say no, Waverly had grabbed her hands and began twirling her around. “Dance with me! Dance the happy dance!” 

“Whoa what the…” But Nicole couldn’t protest, she quickly got wrapped up in Waverly’s joy and skipped around in a circle with her.

**_Like the giant ginger dork you are._ **

Waverly pulled them to a stop, another question on her lips. “Was that your Mom again?”

“Oh my god. You read minds?”

Waverly laughed. “No, you just get this really cute look on your face sometimes, like you just heard the most annoying thing on the planet.”

“Yeah, well. The ghost of my Mom criticising my life choices and calling me a dork is pretty annoying. Anyway, I’m happy that you’re happy.” Nicole smiled.

“I am. I can’t wait for her next ultrasound. I’ll get to hear the baby’s heartbeat! Maybe see some cute little fingers and toes. Wynonna doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be such a great Mom.”

“Why doesn’t she know it?” Nicole asked as they resumed their slow walk towards the conservatory.

“I think she’s worried about being a single mom. Doing this alone.” Waverly confessed.

“She won’t be alone. She’ll have you.” 

“Yeah.” Waverly smiled thinly, a small cloud passing over her eyes for just the briefest of moments. A cloud that Nicole wanted more than anything to chase away. 

“Besides, ‘single mom’ is just another word for superhero.”

“See.” Waverly stopped suddenly in her tracks. “You always, always know just what to say.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do. And I know why too.”

Nicole cocked her head quizzically, wondering where Waverly was going with her train of thought.

“Because you listen. And you remember.” 

Nicole knew she was frowning because the steri-strips were pulling again.

“I can prove it. Look.” Waverly took Nicole by the hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Nicole noticed she had taken it from behind, normally the position you take when being led rather than the leader. They moved further into the garden towards a water fountain. The uppermost bowl was being used as a birdbath by local wildlife but it was the three stone figures holding it aloft that Waverly pointed at.

“Tell me who that one represents.” Waverly squeezed her hand in encouragement but didn’t let it go. How was she supposed to think when Waverly’s warmth was pouring into her through every finger. She looked hard at the statue, unsure what she was supposed to say before she realised exactly who it was.

“Oh, it’s Diké, right! One of the three Horae. She’s Justice.” Waverly looked very, very pleased with her. 

“Perfect answer. I described her to you a week ago now. The only visual representation you had was the stained glass window we sat under while we set up my phone. So to recognise this, you must have been listening, really listening.”

“Oh. Um.” Nicole clenched her teeth, unable to stop the confession rolling past her lips. “I may have looked the Horae up during the week in my lunch breaks.”

“No one ever listens to what I say. But you were interested enough in something I told you that you did homework?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Nicole had become hyper aware of the way her arm rested over Waverly’s shoulder. Their fingers intertwined, thumbs softly moving in an unthinking caress. She could feel every point at which their bodies touched and it was the sweetest torture she had ever endured.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Nicole’s voice broke as her brain diverted energy towards evening out her suddenly shortened breathing.

“For listening, for hearing me. For being… a good friend.” 

**_Friend. I hate that word_ **

_Why Mom? It’s a good word._

Nicole almost felt like she’d convinced herself that was true. 

Almost.

“I am you know?” Dropping her arm, she leaned away to look Waverly in the eye, using absolute maximum effort to school her features and hide the depth of her feelings from this most extraordinary woman. “First and foremost, your friend.”

Waverly answering smile was worth every torturous touch, every broken breath. If all Waverly Earp would ever be to her was a friend who smiled at her like that, then…

**_It wouldn’t ever be enough_ **

_But I can be as patient as air Mom. I can wait and see._

**_Can you though?_ **

“Think you can stretch out and be Wynonna’s friend too? She talks about you a lot more than she should you know.”

“Really? Maybe a narc for a friend will be a good influence on her?”

Waverly giggled. “I doubt that. I’m more worried about the influence she’s going to have on you.”

“Speaking of the prodigal sister. I need to find her. I still haven’t apologised for the Golden Girls themed baby reveal today.”

“Oh, well you’re in luck.” Waverly pointed back towards the loggia.

“Baby girl! There you are. Hey Haught stuff. Listen, I need…”

Nicole girded herself, her apology on the tip of her tongue.

“SHIT!” Wynonna whirled suddenly and walked off in a hurry.

“Wynonna?” Waverly called out after her in concern.

“I GOTTA PEE. AGAIN!”

Waverly sighed at the sight of her sister waddling away in haste. “Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Nicole sighed, resigned for more than one reason. “There’s always tomorrow.”

**SUNDAY**

_God forsaken, mother-fudgin’, Universe!_

The blood was everywhere. 

All over the workstation, her clothes. Her hands. The smell of it was visceral, nightmarish and deeply embedded in her nostrils. There was no escape from it. All she could do was squeeze around the tea towel tightly, and hope to stem the red ribbons dropping heavy splotches of red into the thin carpet beneath her feet. 

_FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! Please be okay, Oh my god… there’s so much of it! Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… How the fuck did this even happen?_

“Jeremy. It’s okay. I’ve got you. We’re going to get this fixed up.” Nicole grabbed his arm as soon as she was within reaching distance, pressing a tea towel firmly to the lacerations across his wrist and forearm. She raised his arm in the air quickly struggling to hold him upright.

“Ow.”

“Yep.” Nicole agreed with him “Very ow.” 

_Fuck, this is a lot of blood. He’s cut an artery. I’m sure he’s… but the blood’s not dark enough… Should I try applying pressure to his armpit anyway? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…._

Nedley arrived only a moment later. He’d snagged a stool and loudly yelled “Medic! Medic on set!”

“Okay, son. You’re going to be fine but we need you to sit here. That’s it.” Jeremy stumbled a little with Nicole doggedly holding his arm in the air and supporting his torso.

“You know, there are other ways of getting out of a bad bake Jeremy.” Nicole tried to joke, giving the smaller man something to focus on that wasn’t the sight of his own blood on the outside of his body where it had no right to be. “You didn’t need to go all Dwayne Johnson on your mixer.”

“But I didn’t even…I just turned it off and it went… kablooey!”

The day shouldn’t have gone like this.

Tasked with creating elaborate constructions in bread using three different flours and baking techniques, Nicole already knew she had given herself too much to do well before she began kneading her third dough. The repetitive actions did nothing to distract her from Jeremy’s growing distress behind her.

His DNA strand construction was coming together, with pieces in the oven, and a dough proving in the warming draw. But like Nicole, he was struggling to prepare his third and final dough. He had too much in the pyrex bowl under his mixer, taxing the dough hook too far. It snapped, the resulting pressure caused the bowl to explode.

A loud thud and crack rang out through the tent making Nicole involuntarily flinch. The noise was short but so utterly unexpected that it created a deafening silence in its wake. 

Nicole had partially ducked instinctively. Her arms raised slightly as if moving to protect herself, but they hung in the air, never quite reaching their destination. She unconsciously held the pose as noises faded back to her. She cast a quick eye around the tent checking for injury. All the bakers had stopped their work, looking towards the source of the sound. Except for Dolls, who had dropped instantly to the floor, arms braced over his head.

Nicole moved the instant she saw the spray of blood across Jeremy’s workstation.

“Oh my god. What can I do?” Waverly arrived behind Nicole.

Ignoring her for a moment, Nicole took charge, her demeanour completely concealing her internal struggle. She spoke softly to Nedley first.

“He’s bleeding through this pretty quick, We’re going to need a few more towels.” He turned immediately to gather more from other bakers workstations.

“Waverly, he’s going into shock so can you find Robin and get some blankets here asap. And snag Wynonna too. Send her to Dolls.” She nodded towards his station where he was still lying prone on the floor.

“Okay. I can do that. I can do all of that.” She turned and ran quickly to Wynonna.

The on-set medic arrived a moment later firing questions at Nicole. Yes, there may be arterial blood. No there didn’t seem to be embedded material. There were now three tea-towels applied to the area. Yes she could keep holding the arm upright and applying pressure.

A second medic pulled up outside the tent with a kitted out medi-van. It was clear that an immediate transport to hospital was necessary as Jeremy grew pallid, his eyes becoming glassy and unfocused. Nicole knew the impending shock was potentially far more dangerous than the wound.

“Robin skidded to a halt next to them, three puffer jackets in hand. “I didn’t know where to get blankets, I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s great Robin. Wrap him up then help us walk him to the van. He’s going to need you, okay?” 

“Yes, of course. Of course!”

“Robin, hi! Fancy seeing you here? I broke your mixer! I can pay for that…” Jeremy was rambling as they shuffled out of the tent, past the concerned faces of the other bakers, Mel and Sue providing comfort where they could.

As they maneuvered Jeremy into the van he leaned in to Nicole “At least I’m not dying single.” He whispered seriously to her.

“Jeremy. You’re not going to die. It’s a serious injury but honestly, you’ll be fine.”

She moved so the medic could take over but Jeremy grabbed her shirt with his good hand. “Stay with me. Please? Both of you.” He looked across to Robin who was already sitting next to him. “Please come with me. I really, really, really hate hospitals. I was in a car accident when I was little. My mom died and...”

**_Oh my God, are you all secretly motherless?_ **

_Not the time Mom!_

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll both come. You’re going to be fine.” Nicole used her voice to reassure him while her heart ached to hear he’d also lost his Mom.

“Yeah, we’ve got you Jeremy.” Robin leaned in, pressing his nose to his ear in reassurance and Jeremy visibly relaxed, his eyes closing.

The medi-van turned on it’s siren and pulled away at speed although to Nicole, time felt like it was running at half its normal speed. She could hear the driver radio in their e.t.a. She could feel the movement of the vehicle, but all her attention was cast to what she could see, rapidly diminishing through the window. 

Waverly Earp, staring at her as she left the Great British-Columbia Bake Off. 

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

 **EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
**Post Showstopper bakers interviews:

 **WYNONNA  
** (Uncharacteristically quiet)  
Oh, I burned my bread. Didn’t everyone? Jesus. Poor Jeremy.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Concerned)  
I’m just glad Constable Haught was able to react so quickly. I’m getting old now and I…well. I think we’re _all_ glad she was there.

 **MATTIE  
** (Frowning)  
I’ve seen some terrible things. Terrible injuries that can happen in and around a forge. Hot metal…fire. But you can prepare for that. It’s expected. Jeremy… that shouldn’t have happened. It’s a stark reminder that we don’t get to choose our fate ourselves. And now there’s a distinct negative energy flowing in and around the tent. One that I hope we can exorcise soon enough.

 **BUNNY  
** (Smiling obliviously)  
You know, I’ve been elected to the P.T.A. for the last ten years running and I like to think my maple infused white bread pays a small role in the vote of confidence the _good_ parents of our town have in me to represent their interests. It is the _most popular_ item at the quarterly bake sale after all.

Bunny pauses and looks off camera, reacting to a silent prompt by the director

Hmmm? Oh, of course what happened to Jeremy is _unfortunate_ , but accidents happen. God knows what he's doing, so everything happens for a reason.

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**SUMMER  
** **Bread Week Broadcast day, Purgatory General  
** **AFTERNOON**

Nicole ran. 

She hated to rush but that’s exactly what she found herself doing through long hospital corridors towards the women’s health wing. Her blue police uniform leant her a certain cache as she moved, being easily identifiable at a distance, people noticed her and generally were already out of her way by the time she reached them.

She pushed through the doors to the reception area but a familiar voice rang out before she could enquire at the desk.

“About bloody time Haught-rod! Did someone syphon your gas or are you just being a dick!”

“Wynonna. I’m here…”

“You’re late.”

“No, I’m perfectly on time.”

“Bullshit!” Wynonna hissed. “I’ve had to sit here with McPerky Tits and Ignoramus Man for twenty goddamn minutes.”

“Well, I’m here now…”

“Yeah, and you brought a gun to the baby wing! What’s wrong with you!”

“I’m on duty, Wynonna!”

“Well, that’s not my fault! Jesus, deputy dipshit!”

Nicole looked around the reception room. A middle aged couple were sitting in the next bay of seats, the man unsuccessfully distracting himself from his nerves with an upside down magazine. His pregnant partner was looking over at Nicole and Wynonna with an ‘Aw, bless’ look on her face as they argued. 

Wynonna noticed ‘McPerky Tits’ look at the same time so they both managed to blurt out “We’re not together!” at the same time. 

“Earp?” A voice called out from the corridor. “Wynonna Earp?”

“That’s us, come on.” Nicole offered an arm to help Wynonna’s considerably pregnant frame a hand up out of the seat. All she got for her trouble was a vicious slap to the arm and a look from ‘PT’ that said ‘Sure you’re not together. You look like you’ve been married for years.’

They followed the receptionist to a small room with a tiny hospital bed. It was strangely clinical despite the kid friendly posters on the wall and the small box of toys in the corner.

“There you go Fido, at least you can keep yourself entertained.” Nicole simply rolled her eyes at her friend as she helped her sit up on the bed.

“Hi!” A loud voice suddenly burst through the door making both women startle. “I’m Jane. The sonographer. What’s up guys!” 

“Well, for one, there’s a baby up my hooha and for two, my pelvic floor is under severe strain right now so maybe a little less with the surprise entrances.”

“Wy…” Nicole needn’t have made the effort to make excuses as Jane seemed utterly unperturbed, flicking through Wynonna’s patient file.

“A bun in the oven, huh?” She looked up and winked at them. “I’m loving the show by the way. Any spoilers for tonight’s episode?”

“No.” They both said in unison. So far they’d avoided a lot of in real life attention due to the show. Nicole was actually surprised that Wynonna’s pregnancy hadn’t shown up on social media yet, but the townsfolk tended to just let them be.

“Okay, well let’s get this show on the road with checking baby’s heartbeat.” Jane turned to the relatively small machine behind her. The specialised trolley carried a large monitor at the top, with the machine and controls at a comfortable height for a technician to sit next to the hospital bed. Jane maneuvered the monitor so Wynonna could see better, while Nicole pulled up a stool to sit behind Wynonna’s head. 

Nicole’s eyes widened, waiting for a quip from Wynonna as Jane pulled out a staggeringly large tube of lube, squeezing out a dollop of the goo with an obscene ‘plurp’ noise. But Wynonna was silent, eyes fixed on the monitor, apprehensive as she waited for the sound of her baby’s heart.

Jane pushed and tapped at the controls before pulling out the transducer wand and pushing it roughly into Wynonna’s stomach. It looked uncomfortable, judging by the grimace on Wynonna’s face, but before Nicole could comment, a soft wump wump wump noise rose from the machine. Jane moved the wand slightly and the soft wump became a loud thwump.

“That’s a strong heartbeat Wynonna…” Jane commented quietly as she pushed a few more buttons, numbers now appearing in tiny colour coded text, complete with little graphs measuring the baby’s rapid heart rate.

“This sounds like shark week.” Nicole whispered, not noticing that Wynonna had pulled out her phone to record the sounds of the thwumps and the background hiss of static. “Like Indiana Oceanographer and the Arc of the Covfefe, searching for treasure hordes deep underwater with sonar.”

“Haught? I have to push a baby the size of a melon out of my vajayjay in a few weeks. Please do not invoke the holy name of shark week again in my presence until the actual, bloody, ripping apart of my perineum is a long distant memory.”

“Sorry.” Suitable chagrined, Nicole finally noticed the phone. “God, did you record me saying that?”

“Yep.” Was Wynonna’s simple reply.

“Don’t you dare send that to Waverly.”

“Already did Captain Quint.” Wynonna’s voice trailed away as she hit send in their group chat.

Nicole sighed in resignation before noticing the melancholy look crossing Wynonna’s face as the heartbeat sounded faded and away and Jane recalibrated the machine for her next task. 

“Waverly came with you to the twenty week scan, right?”

“Yeah, we found out peanut here was a girl, together.” Wynonna paused a moment before sighing with obvious frustration. “You know, this bogus writer’s retreat thing she’s gone on is really beginning to piss me off. She should be here.” It was the first time Nicole had heard Wynonna express anger at Waverly’s weeks long absence.

“She’ll be back for the birth, Wy. She promised.”

“Yeah, well she promised she’d be here for this too and she’s not, so…”

Jane interrupted before Wynonna could elaborate. “The heart beat is perfectly normal, strong even. Now we’re going to have a little look around to see if we can get those elusive pictures and measurements of Miss Earps arms and legs and the four chambers of her heart. I mean, we might not be able to see much. It’ll probably all look like black and white taco filing to you guys.” 

Jane paused a minute as she reapplied lube onto Wynonna’s bare stomach. “Hmmmm. Tacos. Do you guys know if the Taco truck does deliveries?”

“Dude. No.” 

“Ergh. I don’t want hospital salad again… Oh, look! There’s a spleen.”

Jane was right. The grey amorphous blobs did kind of look like taco filling, but they were apparently a spleen, stomach and kidneys. The machine was eerily silent after the thwump thwump thwump of the heart monitor but Nicole found herself transfixed by the grainy images nonetheless.

Next, four slightly fibrolating blobs appeared. “Aaaand there’s the shot. Four chambers. No abnormalities as far as I can see.” 

“Wow…” Nicole’s voice trailed away and Wynonna craned her neck to look at her friend. 

“You alright there, deputy dingus?”

“Yeah, it’s just…wow.” 

Jane kept up a quiet little monologue as she moved the transducer probe through the sea of lube. She was quiet enough that she could be ignored if the pair wanted but her words offered the opportunity to ask questions if they needed. But words were failing Nicole as the next stills taken from the monitor measured the length of the baby’s arm and leg bones.

“Look! Did you see that, Nicole! Hands. Teeny, tiny hands. Oh god, she’s going to have hands!” Wynonna’s voice sounded small and scared.

By the time they had seen two tiny feet and ten tiny toes, they both had tears slipping down their faces. Nicole was overawed, never having been so close to the real experience of having a baby before. Wynonna seemed desperate to hide just how emotional seeing Nicole get emotional over her baby was actually making her.

“Oh, holy shit. Your baby, Wy. She’s beautiful.” The last picture taken was a blurry grey blob but it was definitely a face. A beautiful, yawning, baby face turning towards them like magic, like she heard Nicole’s voice and instinctively knew how to turn towards her. And Nicole was gone. A giant sob escaped her mouth. She tried to catch it but it was out for all the world to hear.

“Shut up you giant ginger sap!” But Wynonna was crying too. “That’s my baby! That’s my… ARGHHHH! HOLY FUCK WHY IS IT AN ALIEN!”

As the probe moved slightly over her stomach the image changed to a sectional view of the baby’s head. The face disappeared, leaving a gaping maw, sinus cavities and large ocular holes instead of gently sleeping eyes.

“Jesus!” Nicole was startled out of her tears by the change in view. “She’s definitely yours Wy…”

“Fuck you, Haught.” Wynonna cursed through her tears while Jane laughed.

“One for the twenty-first, eh? Alright, we’re done here. Would you like one of these printed out?”

“Hell yes.” Wynonna quickly replied. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute. Here’s a towel to wipe off the lube.”

Nicole couldn’t help but snort even though she was still wiping away tears. “Huh. lube.”

“Yeah, who knew it was such a versatile substance.”

“You learn something new every day.”

“Yup.” Wynonna had finished wiping herself down and tugged her maternity jeans back up over her belly. There was a pause between the two women, neither knowing just how to acknowledge what they’d just shared. Nicole felt truly privileged to have shared something so special with Wynonna. She could feel the emotion bubbling up within her, but before she could decide what to do with it, Wynonna had enveloped her in a huge bear hug.

It was short, intense and conveyed everything the two friends needed to say to each other. 

“Here you go guys.” Jane entered the room, pointedly not looking at the two women who had clearly just jumped away from each other in fright. She handed a small cardboard envelope over to Wynonna who quickly snatched it as she grabbed her coat.

“Well this was great and all but I gotta jet. See you tonight Haught-pants.”

“Awww.” Jane spoke in the wake of Wynonna’s sudden exit. “You guys are just so cute.”

“We’re not together.” Nicole spoke with more than a hint of frustration.

“But… hashtag Wynaught?”

“Oh, my god. I’m going to kill Wynonna!”

“Maybe wait till after the baby’s born mmmkay?” Nicole heard Jane call out after her with amusement. 

Nicole rolled her eyes and headed back to her cruiser.

**The Homestead, Purgatory  
** **NIGHT**

“You know that was the moment Waverly knew she wanted you, right?”

“What?” Sat next to her on the worn settee, Wynonna’s quiet voice severed Nicole’s attention completely from the broadcast of bread week, now reaching its denouement with the artfully directed story of Jeremy’s accident. The newly formed tradition of joining Wynonna for the weekly broadcast came complete with snacks, non-alcoholic drinks strewn over the coffee table, and apparently included free and frank revelations that had Nicole feeling like she was balanced on a highwire stretched across Steve’s Gulch.

**_Waverly, he’s going into shock..._ **

The camera crew had somehow managed to capture the perfect angle, focussing on Nicole and Nedley while cutting most of the more explicitly bloody images that surrounded them.

“Yeah, she kinda accidentally confessed to me. The way you just took control, ignored Paul and the production minions, included Robin in helping Jeremy and just generally kicked the situations ass.” 

“There were production minions? I didn’t even see them.”

“Yeah, it was full on chaos for a minute there. No one knew what to do. That’s why no one had spotted Dolls on the floor, but you did. In like, three seconds flat, you had assessed the entire room for danger, decided on the correct course of action and acted. Competence porn at it’s finest Haught-shit.”

“Is that a thing?”

“It’s totally a thing. And Waverly was hooked from that moment on.”

“And she told you this? Voluntarily?”

“What’s with the questions Haught-pants. Yes, voluntarily. If you count a drunken confession in Shorty’s the next day as a voluntary giving up of intel, yeah. She told me how much she wanted you, in entirely unnecessary graphic detail complete with hand gestures. And then she forgot she told me. The whole of the next week was hilarious. I got to watch from the sidelines while she worked it out all over again. Sober Waverly was _completely_ oblivious that she was about to crest the top of Splash Mountain, if ya know what I mean?” 

Wynonna actually snorted as she tried to mime Waverly on an emotional roller coaster. “It all boiled down to her realising that your brief moment of anger directed at Champ wasn’t the real you. The person who leaps to help, even when it costs you, is the _real_ Nicole Haught.

“Who are you and what happened to Wynonna?” Nicole tried to deflect, mildly disturbed by words of niceness falling from Wynonna’s lips.

“Shut up Haught-dog. They’re Waverly’s words. Not mine. Look. You can see it in her eyes. Right…there.” 

Nicole turned her attention back to the screen just as the broadcast showed the van driving away with Waverly and Nedley standing in the entrance watching it go. Waverly’s face was pale, shock evident on her face. But Nicole could see it as plainly as Wynonna. Her eyes were clear, focussed and _smiling_.

“I had no idea...” Nicole sighed as she remembered the events of that afternoon. It was still visceral for her. The smell of the blood, coppery and warm almost like she could taste it on her tongue. The red contrasted so starkly with the way Jeremy’s face changed, somehow losing colour and vitality as his blood pressure dropped with each passing minute.

“It was the worst day. Like, I knew that going with Jeremy was going to mean the end of my time in the tent and part of me was heavy. Just gutted that it would end that way, but Jeremy needed me and… the last thing I saw before we drove away was Waverly Earp, smiling at me from the entrance to the tent. 

“Oh my god, you make the Notebook look bleak, Haught.” 

**_Well that was probably the most dramatic day we’ve ever had in the tent._ ** The faces of Mary, Paul, Mel, and Sue reflected the severity of Mel’s understatement. Mary sat quietly, pale and austere as Paul ran his hands down his face. They sat at the small table in the mini-tent to one side of the main Bake Off marquee for the judges deliberations. Surrounded by examples of the completed bread Showstoppers, no one looked keen to start the segment.

 **_We have had word from the hospital that Jeremy will be alright. The glass caused two large gashes in his forearm and he did knick the artery but with some minor surgery it sounds like he’ll be okay and back with us next week._ ** Sue provided the context needed to continue.

 **_Or will he? It was an unfortunate accident but it does mean he didn’t complete his bake._ ** It sounded like a scripted line in Mel’s mouth, like she’d been ordered to say it to prompt the judges and get a conversation going for the segment.

 **_Well, neither did Nicole._ ** Paul interjected, brows furrowed as he looked every bit the stern, uncompromising television personality he embodied. **_We have on-set medics for a reason. She didn’t need to follow him to the hospital. Jeremy was in excellent medical hands and we had crew assist him too._ **

“What a dickwad!” Wynonna interrupted the broadcast, throwing a handful of popcorn at the screen that Nicole knew she was just going to have to clean up later.

**_No, I don’t accept that._ **

Mary’s voice carried on as Nicole distracted herself from the broadcast with her phone. But it wasn’t helping. Tweet after tweet praising her actions and more than a few calling her a hero made Nicole feel ill.

**_Nicole and Randy are emergency services professionals. They are trained first responders and they both stepped up in the moment and acted with complete sincerity and selfless professionalism. Their swift actions are likely the reason Jeremy has not suffered a poorer outcome from this accident._ **

“This is ridiculous, Wy. Helping someone in need doesn’t make you a…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Well, Jeremy sure thinks so. I think we can agree he gets the final say.”

Nicole navigated to Jeremy’s profile. He’d posted a photo of his arm showing how little he had scarred from the accident and captioned it:

🤍 _Ambrose Fish and Welcome to Dolls House liked  
_ **Jeremy Chetri** @JerBearBakes * Just now  
All healed thanks to my heroes @ColeCopperTop @RandysBuns57, the Bake Off medics and the staff at Nanaimo General.

Nicole let out a shaky breath, unsure how to respond. The ‘H’ word sat uncomfortably in her chest. A millstone of disbelief and dismissal.

**_Well said Mary. It’s been a difficult day and now you both have an awful decision to make. Besides Jeremy and Nicole, who obviously couldn’t produce bakes for you to judge, who else is in trouble this week?_ **

**_Wynonna. Wynonna has been consistently in the bottom three every week but up until today, has always had a little something special up her sleeve._ **

“Well, he’s not wrong. I was shit all weekend. I fucking hate bread!” Wynonna gave a series of flipped birds to the screen followed up by a large raspberry, tongue flapping between her lips like a demented hummingbird. The performance drew a laugh from Nicole despite her unease.

**_“I’d also add Champ to the list. His Signature bake was bland and he overworked the dough during the Technical challenge. And maybe also Bunny? She lacked the flair and attention to detail we expect from our bakers._ **

**_What about Starbaker?_ **The energy onscreen changed instantly as the conversation turned to a happier topic.

**_This will be a much easier decision. It’s a straight drag race between Randy and Mattie. They were both excellent this week. I almost wish I could award it to them both._ **

“Speaking of awarding starbaker.” Wynonna leaned over to her jacket thrown on the back of the couch. “I’ve got something for you.”

“A gift for me? Antenatal care making you soft, Wy?”

Wynonna didn’t respond. She pulled out a copy of the scan and handed it to a disbelieving Nicole. 

“I can’t accept this…” Nicole could feel traitorous tears ganging up on her threatening to tell Wynonna exactly how honoured she felt. 

“Jane printed two. This one is yours.”

“But Waverly…”

“Can have the alien one. Jane printed that too.” Nicole laughed then, allowing the tears to fall, hidden behind a mask of mirth.

“Oh, god. She’s going to bend over backwards trying to think of nice things to say about it. I shouldn’t laugh, but. God.”

Nicole took a moment to wipe her eyes before asking an important, quiet question. “Are you sure, Wy?”

“You’re family now Haught. I mean you’re here ALL THE TIME. You’re basically an Earp.”

“Basically an Earp?”

“Yeah, basic Earp. Ground floor. No, bargain basement, one step lower than intern.”

“Oh, I’m no good being at the bottom, Wy.”

“I know. This house has _very_ thin walls.”

“And very uncomfortable floorboards.”

“Eww!”

Nicole let the teasing continue, knowing that an extended stay in heart-to-haught town wasn’t what Wynonna wanted or needed right now. Instead, she took the print with a quiet ‘Thank-you’ and let the matter drop as the broadcast continued.

But her eyes kept falling to the picture. Nicole felt a wave of contentment, belonging and love wash over her. She didn’t even hear the closing moments of the show as she gazed at greyscale sleeping eyes, the cutest button nose and the yawning mouth of Wynonna’s baby - her niece.

 **_After this dramatic day I’ve got the horrible job of announcing who will not be joining us in the tent next week, a_** **_nd it is with intense regret and immense sadness that I have to tell you all…_ **

  
  
  
  


**_...that the baker, going home today…_ **

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_...is…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLiffHaNGeR! ARGHhGhhhhGhHHHgGGHhh!
> 
> (Not even sorry)


	5. Only Daddy That’ll Walk the Linguine and Clams (by Waylon Jello Shots)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the title makes no sense, the author has no regrets about this, and you the reader will just have to live with this turn of events.

“

 _You got the only daddy that'll walk the line  
_ _I keep a workin' every day  
_ _all you want to do is play  
_ _I'm tired of stayin' out all night  
_ _I'm comin' unglued  
_ _from your funny little moods  
_ _now Honey baby that ain't right_

“

**SPICE WEEK**

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT.  
** Nedley sits in Waverly’s favourite spot over the Crofte Stream. As he speaks, he gently taps the star baker award pinned to his chest.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Shuffling, slightly embarrassed.)

I wasn’t really expecting to get to wear this thing myself. When Waverly pinned it to my shirt… Well. It’s hard to celebrate your own success when there are young people in trouble.

 **CUT.  
** Jeremy sits on the first tiered lawn wall, the concrete steps ascending to the castle in shot behind him. He raises his arm to show just the tips of his fingers emerging from white bandages, but he seems otherwise unharmed from the events of the week before.

 **JEREMY  
** (Overly excited)

I’m back! I know, I know it seems so unlikely but I’m all wrapped up and ready to go. It’s not like I was leaning out of a truck, diverting a runaway missile on ice or anything. ‘Cos that’s what The Rock would’ve done, and I’m not The Rock. Actually, is it too late to change my mind? This is going to be haaaaard!

 **CUT.  
** Paul is wrapped up in his pretentious military inspired blue coat. He appears to be relishing the thought of just how epically the bakers are likely to mess up the challenges of Spice Week. 

**PAUL  
** (Trying and failing not to smirk)

We’ve given the bakers a lot to do this week, but with circumstances being what they are, it felt right to push them. We’re at week four after all. It’s time to begin weeding out the pretenders from the contenders and get down to some serious baking. If the bakers are asleep at their ovens this week, you can bet Mary and I will be harsh.

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**SPRING  
** **Nicole’s Apartment, Vancouver City  
** **Week prior to filming Spice Week  
** **MONDAY EVENING**

_Why does this couch smell of skunk heiny?_

It was an odd first thought to have as Nicole’s brain slowly booted up for the day. Waking up face down on a couch rather than a comfy bed made her feel like a decades old computer, gradually powering on and trying to automatically connect to dial-up internet. In other words, she felt slow, ancient and only able to communicate in unintelligible machine whistles and groans for the first five minutes of her wake cycle.

“Urghhhh... Huuuuhghhh… Wuuuuugh? Uh.”

**_Mondays. Right?_ **

_Mom. Where am I? Why am I?_

**_Both good questions._ **

_With answers?_

Nicole’s cat gave her all the answers at once by jumping onto her back, circling twice with kneading claws before sitting her now not inconsiderable weight down, effectively pinning her to the couch.

_Ah. Home then. My skunky-heiny couch._

**_You’ve become nothing more than a luxury cushion for her majesty, ‘The Abominable CJ the First’, it seems._ **

_Yup. What is my life?_

**_Do you really want me to answer that?_ **

_No. I really do not._

“CJ. CJ, come on. You have to move.” Nicole wriggled with a lack of commitment the damned cat seemed to enjoy. She returned her head to the cradle made by her arms for a few moments more of mild procrastination. “It’s no use. I’m stuck like this.”

After Jeremy’s accident the day before, Nicole had been awake for what felt like centuries. She’d stayed at the hospital throughout Sunday afternoon and into the night while Robin got some rest, then swapped with him to catch an early morning ferry home. There hadn’t even been time to head back to the estate for her things.

Nicole had resigned herself to the inevitability of her departure from the show, but what she couldn’t resign herself to, were the feelings of regret that she’d unintentionally hung on the image of Waverly Earp. She saw her every time she closed her eyes.

Waverly. 

Her _friend_ Waverly. 

The woman formerly known as (Uhhhhhhh) who both pulled her in while holding her at arm's length. The woman she no longer had any excuse to spend time with.

_At least she’ll never have to smell this couch._

**_Small miracles._ **

Blinking in the low light of her living room, Nicole groaned as she noticed she only had a couple of hours before her late shift began. During which, she would have to somehow catch up on the mundanity of life. Shopping, dishes, laundry, emails. At least there wouldn’t have to be time carved away to practice more bakes.

A loud MREOWWWW from Calamity let Nicole know her cellphone was about to ring in the back pocket of her jeans. The poor cat had no tolerance for the vibrations the phone pumped out and she jumped away in disgust.

“Who is it CJ?” She called out half-heartedly. “God. I’m becoming one of _those_ cat people aren’t I? Yes I am. Urgh.” Barely bothering to sit up, she reached for the phone and answered on auto-pilot, only clocking the image gracing the phone as she brought the device up to her ear. 

“Oh, Shit!” She breathed out.

 _“Well, hello to you too!”_ Waverly’s voice seemed to float out of the phone, her feigned annoyance sounding like nothing less than home to Nicole.

“Sorry Waves. Cat nearly made me drop the phone.” Nicole lied as she pulled a face that told the empty room she hoped she’d got away with it. She found herself sitting up immediately, back straight, legs together like a chastised child. “Um, I’ll try again. Hi Waverly. How are you?”

_“This sucks!”_

“I know…” Nicole’s voice was small, resigned.

_“It really sucks Nicole. Frankly, the situation is balls!”_

“Balls?”

_“Yes. Balls. Great...big…hairy…nut sacks! No, it’s not funny. Nicole!”_

Waverly’s anger had all the energy of an annoyed mouse, which only made Nicole laugh a little harder.

 _“This is too hard.”_ Waverly’s voice was softer now, sadder. 

“I know… I don’t like it either but it was their decision. We just have to live with it.” 

_“It’s stupid...”_

“I know…”

_“...and unprecedented.”_

“I know…”

_“You know nothing, Nicole Haught.”_

“Oh, I know plenty, Waverly Earp.” Nicole couldn’t keep the grin grabbing hold of her face at their back and forth banter. She was really going to miss it. Along with the tent and the other friends she had made.

_“Yeah? So tell me how we’re going to collaborate on bakes from 200 miles away?”_

“Wait, what?”

_“We have to work together on this Nicole. I don’t see how we can do it from so far apart unless you’re secretly a magical unicorn that poops ‘speed of light’ rainbow bridges?”_

“Are you making fun of me?” Nicole suddenly felt lost. Was Waverly asking for help to plan her bakes?

_“No? Why would you say that?_

Nicole sighed into the phone, rising now from her creaking old couch to pace the living room as she tried to puzzle out what kind of conversation she was currently embroiled in. “You don’t need my help Waves. You’ll be fine without me. You’ve got Wynonna… God I can’t believe she outlasted me. That’s kind of a kick to the ego, actually.”

_“Hey! But also, what?_

“What?”

 _“You tell me. What do you mean, Wynonna outlasted...Ohhhhhh! You haven’t checked your emails yet?_ ”

“Waves, I was with Jeremy all night on Sunday and most of this morning. I left him with Robin and then just came straight home and crashed so I’m guessing I have a few missed calls?”

_“Yeah, you might wanna check…”_

“Waves, It’s okay. I already guessed it was me. I didn’t produce a final bake and there’s no way they would penalise Jeremy after what happened to him.”

_“Nicole, nobody was asked to leave the tent.”_

“What?”

_“Nobody left last week Nicole…”_

“That doesn’t make any… sense. I mean. What the fuck?”

_“W.T.F. indeed. We had to hang around for a mini ice-age to film the star baker award after you guys left but eventually they came out and awarded it to Nedley and then they did their usual dramatic thing and we were all sitting there, perched on those silly stools and then Sue said…”_

Waverly’s voice took on a grave sounding british accent. 

_“‘And the baker...”_ She paused for dramatic effect. _“...going home today...”_ Another pause and dammit but Nicole felt the drama of it even though she was just talking to Waverly on the phone. _“is… no one.’ We all just sat there puzzled while she did a full ‘Oprah’ meme impression.”_ Waverly’s voice imitated Sue’s accent again _“You get to stay, and you get to stay and everyone gets to stay!”_

“Oh my god. So I…”

“You’re still on the show Nicole. So is Jeremy.” 

“Holy shit! Really!”

_“Hold up. There’s a catch”_

“Of course there is…”

 _“Well, this coming week is Spice week, right?”_ Nicole nodded along even though she knew Waverly couldn’t see her. _“Well, they’ve certainly decided to spice things up a bit. “We have to do all the bakes paired up with another baker and the worst pair will be asked to leave.”_

“Shit, so two people have to go this week?” Nicole’s heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that she might have to collaborate with Bunny or Champ.

_Waverly implied we were… Surely the Universe wouldn’t be so kind…_

**_You think that’s kind? If you two are paired together Bulshar would be all up in your face the whole weekend. Think you can keep those puppy eyes in check?_ **

_I… Oh shit!_

**_Oh shit, indeed! At least I’ll be entertained. Lord knows it’s an improvement over ‘What plastic rubbish is caught in my fronds this time’._ **

_Mom. If you’re going to live rent free in my mind you could at least pay me a subscription fee._

**_With what? My multi-trillion empire of sand dollars?_ **

Nicole shook aside her mother’s voice so she could concentrate properly on the phone call. A supremely difficult task when very little of the conversation so far had made much sense, but she had to know.

“So, you and I…”

_“Yes, thank god. Robin confirmed the pairings in an email and we’re together.”_

Nicole’s heart dropped out of it’s regular rhythm so completely her breath stalled in her chest. In that tiny vacuum, a small seed of anxiety planted itself, growing exponentially as they talked, fed by the flood of relief the confirmation unleashed.

_“Can you imagine either of us coping with Bunny or Champ for an entire weekend. It just… urgh, doesn’t bear thinking about.”_

“But someone has to… unless they’ve been paired up?” Nicole asked hopefully.

_“Unfortunately no. The other pairings are Jeremy and Nedley…”_

“Oh, they’ll be hard to beat.”

_“Yup, and Wynonna and Dolls are…”_

“A couple?”

_“Ha ha. So you’ve seen the way they keep checking each other out too? They’ll be caught on camera this week if they’re not careful.”_

**_Is she aware of the irony or do I have to break out your Alanis mixtape?_ **

_“Oh, and I secretly can’t wait to see Champ and Mattie try to work as a team.”_

Nicole practically barked with laughter at that. “Mattie is going to own his ass. Oh, but that means…”

_“You got it. Fish has to work with Mrs Homophobe herself.”_

“Poor Fish!”

_“I know, right? Poor Fish, but also, poor us! We live so far away from each other. I don’t even know how to begin. It’s not like I can email you a practice bake!”_

Nicole’s brain was whirling at a million miles an hour with all this new information. 

_Still on the show. Need to schedule practice baking. Can I ask for more time off? How to collaborate across distance? Remove the distance. Waverly could…_

Then her mouth was moving before her brain could catch-up

“Weeeeeeell... How about you mail yourself?” Nicole stood and started pacing between the kitchen and the living room, appalled at her phrasing. 

_“Nicole?”_

“Um, well, I think you’re right. It’s impossible to collaborate from a distance. So why don’t you…”

_“I’ll be there on Wednesday.”_

“Wait. What?” Nicole stopped herself mid-step as Waverly continued.

_“I can get a ride to Ashcroft and take the overnight train to Vancouver. It gets in first thing in the morning. Do you have a shift then? I can always get an Uber to your place. Or, or I can find a cheap place to stay and…”_

“Waverly..”

_“Oh, but I didn’t even let you finish! You weren’t even going to say…”_

“Waverly…”

_“Oh, my god. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”_

“WAVERLY!” Finally, silence fell on the other end of the line.

“Please come and stay with me for a few days.” Nicole finished her sentence and smiled as she heard Waverly release a pent up breath on the phone line. “I have a pullout couch bed, a fancy oven and a couple of free days up my sleeve. I would be more than happy for the company.”

The silence drew out for a beat.

“Will you come?”

_“Yes. I’ll be there. Wednesday morning.”_

“Okay, that’s settled then. You better bring all your best ideas Waves.”

_“Oh, you betcha Nicole. I’m… looking forward to it.”_

“Great, well, I’ll uh, see you at the train station. Okay?

_“Fantastic. Thanks Nicole. Um, have a great day. See you Wednesday.”_

“Bye.”

Nicole disconnected the call and felt a rush of blood roar up her face and beat her eardrums with loud, pummelling fists. She was going to have to pull in every favour owed to her to get out of her shifts and probably offer a few more in return because she’d just lied through her teeth to Waverly about having free days.

_What am I gonna do, mom?_

**_Stick to her like a tight shirt on a sweaty farm hand?_ **

_I can’t Blanche Devereaux my way out of this._

**_Not with that attitude, you won’t!_ **

_Fuck._

_FUCK!_

_Wednesday morning..._

_Waverly is coming to my apartment on Wednesday!_

_I…_

_I need to steam clean this couch..._

( ╯°O°)╯ ┳┻━┳━┻┳

**Pacific Central Railway Station, Vancouver City  
** **WEDNESDAY**

“Jeremy, what am I doing? This is such a bad idea.” 

Nicole was waiting for the arrival of the Western Canada tourist train as hordes of commuters flowed past her into the city. She hadn’t been to bed yet, coming straight to the station in her uniform. She was beginning to deeply regret agreeing to her staff sergeant's demands to pull a double in return for the extra two days off she’d asked for at short notice. 

She had spent most of the night in a patrol car with an unfamiliar partner who cracked inappropriate jokes all night. She’d had to remind him four times she was on secondment to the diversity and community policing division but she’d given up in the end. Right now, all she wanted to do was collect Waverly, get her settled and make her apologies before heading to bed for a few hours.

She grabbed absentmindedly at the front of her shirt, pulling at the stab-proof vest below, hoping to alleviate the itch that had been steadily forming underneath it. Bulking out her already tall frame, it made Nicole feel unnecessarily intimidating. The deep navy uniform was annoying to say the least, and she felt like she had been living in hers for 10 hours too long.

_“Nicole, we’ve been over this. It’s going to be fine. I can’t believe you’re calling me for advice on your love life.”_

“What love life? I have no love life, Jeremy. Waverly just wants to be my friend.”

_“Are you sure….”_

“Yes! Because that’s what she’s told me she wants. Unless she tells me otherwise, that’s the end of it.”

_“See? That’s why having her over will be a great idea. She can see you in your natural element. It’ll be the first time you’ve spent together where it’s just you. It’s the perfect condition for growing ‘changing her mind’ fungus. Think of your home as a petri dish.”_

“You make it sound like I’m going to infect her with mind-controlling spores. How romantic. Which is spelled ‘utterly gross’ by the way.”

“ _No interruptions, no obligations now you’ve sorted your shift changes. All you have to do is spend time together then catch the ferry on Friday. What could go wrong.”_

“Oh, my god. You had to say it. You just… had to say it.”

_“Say what?”_

“Oh, shit. There she is...” Nicole looked up and spotted Waverly leaning on an advertising board. She had been so wrapped up in talking to Jeremy she hadn’t noticed the train arrive, a never ending stream of commuters partially blocking her view. They passed in front of her, Waverly’s image flickering in and out of focus as Nicole struggled to walk against the tide towards her. She seemed happy to wait for Nicole to get to her, her eyes moving up and down the uniform, never once settling anywhere near her face.

“...and I’m pretty sure she’s checking me out.” Nicole suddenly found that her uniform no longer bothered her at all.

_“See! Who’s the daddy!”_

“Jeremy, holy shit, no. Never say that again. I gotta go…”

_“I’m gonna tell this story when I’m your bae of honor.”_

“What? Uh, Whatever. Thanks Jeremy. Look after yourself. Bye.” Nicole hung up on her friend as she finally reached Waverly. There was a brief pause, where both women forgot they could use their voices to actually speak. It lasted as long as it took Waverly to finally raise her eyes into focus on Nicole’s. 

Hi! Waverly! You made it! I mean, You’re here. Obviously. You’re here now. Fuck. I mean. Um how was the trip?

“Does talking to Jeremy always make you sound like him too?”

“Apparently, yes.” Nicole laughed along with Waverly.

“How’s he doing?? Waverly enquired. “When I phoned yesterday he’d just come out of surgery so he seemed tired but still very, very Jeremy.”

“Yeah, he seems pretty chipper this morning too, but that could be the Oxy.”

Waverly laughed. “Why do I get the feeling that Jeremy on a high is just Jeremy but slightly louder?”

Nicole smiled in amused agreement before reaching for Waverly’s bag. “Geez, Waverly. Did you bring your entire recipe collection?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So this is just a big ol’ bag of books, huh?

“Yup.”

“Did you bring any clothes, Professor?” Nicole teased as they wended their way through the station. 

“Who needs clothes? We’ve got serious baking practice to do.”

Nicole walked into a door with the sound of her mother’s laughter ringing in her ears.

(＿ ＿*) Z z z

Nicole was tired. 

That was the excuse she made for herself and she was going to stick doggedly to it for the rest of time. The short taxi ride to West End was some kind of highly specialised torture as a well-rested Waverly excitedly pointed out local landmarks and museums she knew she wouldn’t have time to visit.

She radiated joy at just being, and all Nicole could do was stare at her. By the time they arrived home, Nicole’s brain had hit a wall. Waverly was in her apartment, looking at her things. Looking at her Mom’s things, and the few things that Shae had left behind. The unwelcome thought had her frowning and Waverly, ever observant Waverly, had noticed straight away.

“Um, are you okay Nicole? You’ve been really quiet. Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Yes! God, yes, I’m sorry. I’m really happy you’re here. I’m just feeling a little guilty because I’m going to have to leave you alone for a couple of hours. I uh, just got off a double shift and If I don’t sleep soon I’m afraid I might actually injure myself.” 

“Oh my god! Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t… Go! Go sleep. I can finish up some research and we can get started once you’re rested.”

“Alright, but don’t wait for me. Use anything you like in the kitchen. If you need anything there’s a market two blocks that way.” Nicole pointed in a vague direction behind her. “I also cut you a key so you can, um come and go when you need and, uh…” She could feel her flustration growing with every rushed revelation into how much thought she’d put into Waverly’s visit. “...the WiFi password is on the fridge and there are menus for take-out places that deliver for lunch, just in case you don’t want to go out. Also, don’t let me sleep past one okay? We’ve got serious work to do.”

Waverly beamed at her “Got it. Thank you so much Nicole.”

“Great, well I’ll… just go…and...” Nicole turned and quickly walked away.

Nicole could feel herself collapsing as soon as she caught sight of the bed. All thoughts of taking a shower crashed and burned as she hurredly striped out of her uniform. 

She was asleep before she could even get under the covers.

(￣ρ￣)..zzZZ

Nicole woke to a combination of very odd sensations. First, pain. She had not moved a single muscle since falling asleep and now her neck was screaming in protest. Then, wetness. Her pillow sported a small puddle of very attractive drool.

“Eww…”

Next, her nose sensed an unidentifiable cooking smell. Some kind of spicy mix frying in oil. Lastly, music. Soft, but still a pumping dance beat. Waverly was singing quietly along. 

_Ohhh, Waverly sings._

Nicole wormed her way off the bed and padded silently over to the door, resting her ear against it for a moment. Waverly had a beautiful voice and she seemed to know the song well, adding to the harmonies of a duet. The sound of her voice grew a little stronger. Panicked, Nicole looked over just as her old fashioned bedside clock flipped over to 1pm. Was Waverly coming to wake her up, just like she had asked?

“Shit, shit, shit.” Nicole softly swore to herself as she stumbled back through the room, tripped over her clothes and made a beeline for the en suite, shutting the bathroom door behind her. 

Twenty minutes later, Nicole was freshly showered and feeling as good as a five hour sleep can make a person. She quickly tidied up her room and made the bed with fresh sheets so she could offer it to Waverly later that night.

**_Because you’re a good hostess, not for any other reason or expectation, right?_ **

_Right. You raised me well, Mother._

**_A good hostess, but a bad lesbian._ **

_What would you know Mom?_

**_Well, I know that…_ **

_Mom! She just. Wants to be. My friend!_

“Hey! Welcome to the land of the living.” Waverly’s smile practically beamed from her as she paused the music playing on her phone.

“Wow, that smell is amazing. I have no idea what it is though.” Nicole joined Waverly at the oven, inspecting the pan of spices Waverly had just taken off the heat. Thoroughly distracted by trying to pick apart the individual smells, Nicole moved instinctually. Before she knew it she had sidled right up to Waverly, put her arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head in greeting.

**_Because this is what friends do with each other._ **

_Oh, fuck!_

Nicole froze in place but Waverly showed no outward signs of rejection. She actually leaned in to Nicole, wrapping one of her own arms around Nicole’s waist in return. She held the half-hug all through her explanation.

“It’s mostly mace, actually.”

“Mace? Really?” 

“Yup. Plus a little cassia bark and nutmeg too. I went out for a little walk earlier. I met a woman called Anju at the market and she recommended this and another combination of spices she uses in goat curries.”

The scent was overwhelmingly gorgeous. As was the woman currently occupying her kitchen, her ‘hug space’, and her whole damn heart.

**_Nicole…_ **

She could hear the note of caution in her Mom’s voice as her memory sought out her attention.

_I know Mom, but…_

**_It’s Waverly…_ **

_Yeah, and I’m..._

**_Screwed?_ **

_Really, royally screwed._

“You’ve been busy!” Nicole shook off her mother’s thoughts whilst simultaneously disentangling herself from Waverly’s all too welcome embrace. She leaned away to gesture towards the bench top where a Gubana was cooling. There wasn’t a single dirty pan or spatula in sight. In just a few short hours, Waverly had somehow transformed her kitchen from a simple, functional space she inhabited in her home, into something much, much more than that. 

The kitchen had always been hers. Even when her mom was alive, It was organised, cleaned and used far more by the younger Haught. Almost exclusively when she had shared it with Shae. In fact, Nicole couldn’t recall a single image of her ex-wife inside her kitchen. Now Waverly was there, and Nicole found herself irrevocably thinking of it as _their_ space. Hers and Waverly’s. The simple domesticity of the scene filled her with an unfamiliar, settled happiness.

Waverly ducked her head, almost shyly. “Yeah, I kinda have. Aaaaand I also took a few liberties.” Waverly led Nicole away to the dining room table. It was covered in books and folders filled with pages neatly organised with colour coded dividers. None of them belonged to Nicole. 

_She wasn’t kidding. She really had a suitcase filled with books._

**_Which means the only clothes she packed were in her shoulder bag… Did she_ ** **only** **_pack underwear?_ **

_Mom. I will not have you speculating about Waverly’s underw… Shit.What did she say?_

“Hmmm?” Nicole found herself answering a question she was pretty sure Waverly had asked but she had in no way heard.

“You’re still half asleep. Nicole, you should go back to bed. I can’t even imagine how tired you must be.”

“Hey, I’m fine. I promise. So far, I’m on a normal schedule for me. Were you asking about the Haught family bible?”

“The what now?”

“Gizmo’s recipe book. It’s the closest thing to an heirloom bible our family ever had.” Nicole smiled at Waverly’s raised eyebrows.

“Okay, you should be aware that if you keep not making any sense I will frogmarch you back to bed myself.”

**_Promise?_ **

_MOM!_

Nicole must’ve freeze-framed on her mother’s scandalous comment because Waverly’s cheeks had time to turn a delicate shade of pink before she cleared her throat to change the subject. Waverly picked up Nicole’s Haught heirloom recipe book and Nicole saw it had a single pink sticky note poking delicately from the side with a heart shaped smiley face drawn on it. “I found a Gubana recipe in this. I hope it’s okay that I used it?”

“Of course, Waverly. I’m glad you found it.”

“So this is your Grandmother’s recipe book and you called her... ‘GizMo’? Really?” 

“Um, yeah. She used to insist that she shouldn’t be fed after midnight, and the joke stuck.”

“Nicole. That is the most adorable thing I have ever heard. You must’ve had quite the relationship.” 

Nicole was getting better at this. Spotting when Waverly’s thoughts were walking down a hidden path behind her eyes. She was wandering again, and it was easy to guess why.

“I’m really lucky to have known her. Although she’s long passed now, and Mom too, I do have their memories and I have this book filled with generations of Haught topics.” 

Nicole felt no small measure of pride in drawing out a small smile from Waverly with a pun on her name. “Can I read you some of the entries? I mean, it’s okay if it’s not really your thing I just… wanted to share it with you a bit and, shit. No, this is silly…”

“Nicole. This book is living history. Of _course_ it’s my thing! Please. I’d love to hear your Haught topics.”

Smiling in relief, Nicole picked the book up, flicking to one of the earliest pages. 

“ _Nibs still won’t talk to Gloria_ ... That’s Gizmo’s Aunt and cousin respectively.” Nicole interjected for Waverly’s benefit. “... _after the lemon curd fiasco at Christmas last year. Personally I’m on the fence. If you like the rind, keep it in, if not then leave it out. I don’t see what the problem is. I certainly wouldn’t have set fire to the Christmas tree out of spite._ ” 

Waverly roared with laughter at the image. “Was that Nibs or Gloria?” 

“Gloria apparently, but she swore black and blue it was the spirit of a possessed candle.”

‘Wow. The Haught women are wild.”

Nicole flicked a couple of pages forward and read again. 

“ _Listen here Natalie_ … That’s my Mom’s name.”

Waverly smiled and Nicole’s heart burned even brighter somehow now that Waverly knew her Moms name. She pushed through reading the next part, hoping Waverly didn’t notice the slight warble in her voice. 

“ _My old bat of a Grandmother would boil cabbage for pie which was about as tasty as eating boiled underpants. You have to fry it Natalie, in butter not that fake-ass crap you buy in shops these days. Fry it then add the egg. Make a batter topping if you need it quick and dirty for the tiny string bean you call a child, or go the full hog and make a suet crust. I don’t care if she’s turning in her grave as I write this, but that old woman was as bland as her recipes so for goodness sake, spice them up a bit by adding your own versions dear_.”

Nicole laughed along with Waverly. “So we do. Mom added her recipes, either in notations like this or by starting a new one. Since she died, I’ve been adding my own. Mine will be the last entries actually. I’m the last of the Haughts.”

In a physical acknowledgement of empathy, Waverly’s arm, warm and comforting, snaked up and around her own. Her head tipped to rest against Nicole’s shoulder and she was so close, Nicole could smell her shampoo and see individual hairs move slightly as her own breath disturbed them from their natural resting place. 

“This is so beautiful, Nicole.” Waverly spoke with a soft reverence as she turned the book to some of Nicole’s entries. Her hands, so gentle with each exploratory turn of the page, fingers tracing along Nicole’s neat handwriting as if it was a treasure map to her soul.

_How on earth does she do this?_

Nicole swallowed thickly as she realised her attention had shifted entirely to Waverly. She cleared her throat before navigating to safer waters. “Well, today, _we_ are going to add new recipes to it.”

“We are?” 

“Yes. Mom’s Gubana recipe is wonderful.” Nicole flipped back to the page Waverly had marked. “So, we’re going to add the dual spicy signature challenge version and then add a brand new recipe for an Earp/Haught King cake for the showstopper. I mean, they’re all versions of christmas cakes essentially so we can draw inspiration from traditional recipes.”

“Nicole…” Waverly breathed her name with a reverence Nicole would never in her life have believed was possible. There Waverly Earp was, speaking her name like it meant more than life itself to her. “Are you sure you want me too? I mean, this is your family hist...”

Nicole didn’t let her finish. “Yes.” She spoke with complete conviction. She carefully took Waverly’s hands in her own, holding them softly as she allowed her heart's truth to fall from her lips. “This competition means something to me because it has reconnected me to my family history, especially to my Mom. This week, I get to make these amazing new recipes with you by my side and that means a whole damn lot to me too Waverly Earp. Will you help me commemorate this by stamping this small pocket of my history in our book?”

“Of course.” Waverly almost whispered her response. “I’m honoured.”

“No, I’m the one who’s honoured, Waves.” She squeezed Waverly’s hands and let them go, quite unwilling to look at her face because she knew, if she caught Waverly’s eyes, there would be no hiding what she felt for her.

Waverly cleared her throat, putting the book down carefully. “Well, now I’m doubly glad I bought you a thank-you present at the market.”

“Awww, Waves. You didn’t have to do that.” Nicole smiled, grateful for the return of air to her lungs.

“I know, but it was kind of ‘spur of the moment’ and I wanted to.” Waverly took Nicole’s hand and led her over to the bookcase in the lounge. CJ lay regally on the folded rug Nicole had put on the shelf formerly occupied by one pineapple shaped, Mom filled urn. For a minute, Nicole was too occupied by the warm feeling of _rightness_ pouring into her arm from Waverly’s hand to notice what Waverly was smiling at.

“Ta-da! I got you a plant. His name is Robert.” Nicole looked at the fluffy cactus now gracing the shelf next to her cat. It was somehow fluffier on top, making it look like it was sporting an epic white mohawk.

“Robert Plant? Oh, my god. That’s a terrible name!” 

“Says the woman who called her grandmother GizMo! You should be grateful. A kid at the market tried to sell me on the name ‘Bobo’ so maybe a little less with the name snobbery! I noticed you didn’t have any plants and this little guy should be fairly low maintenance. You deserve some greenery in your life.” 

“He’s beautiful Waverly. Thank you.”

It was such a small thing, to be given a gift, but Nicole was moved beyond words. No one had ever bought her a living thing before. Not her mom, and certainly not Shae. It felt like the embodiment of trust, and it had come from Waverly Earp.

Waverly Earp. 

Who was standing in her apartment, holding her hand and learning all about her life.

So close, and yet miles away.

ヾ(´〇`)ﾉ♪♪♪

“Bobo says yes.”

“Bobo says no!”

“He’s a plant, what would he know?”

It was late. Nicole and Waverly were at loggerheads, both leaning haphazardly on either side of Nicole’s breakfast bar, staring intently at the plant they had chosen as arbiter. They were both ever so slightly tipsy, Nicole’s small wine collection reducing with each decision made on their bake plans. 

The signature Gubana spices had been settled quickly after testing three different flavour combinations but the story of their Showstopper King cake had devolved into a tit-for-tat argument after finding they each preferred the others idea.

“Plants are _verrrrrrrry_ intelligent Nicole. That’s why I bought Bobo for you. You need all the help you can get.”

“If I need help in the intelligence department then that means we should make your idea.” Nicole raised her hand and pointed at Waverly, actually making contact with her forehead. Waverly’s face creased in adorable confusion as she crossed her eyes trying to look up at Nicole’s hand.

“Yours is better.”

“No, yours is better.”

“Bobo! You’re no help at all!” Waverly huffed in frustration just as a hungry Calamity Jane jumped up to brush her rapidly growing fluffy form past their faces. Both women withdrew in protest, but especially Waverly as she was in danger of receiving a full cat-butt in the face.

“I’m calling it.” Nicole declared to the room. “C.J. picked you.”

“Because she shoved her ass in my face? Is this revenge for the ferry Nicole?”

“Only Calamity Janes knows.” Nicole said with an air of mystery. She moved to grab the kibble, sending CJ into an excited frenzy, her tail knocking Bobo over. The plant spun in circles in his tiny pot, finally coming to rest with his fluffy head pointing right at Nicole.

“BOBO HAS DECIDED!”

“Fine! You win!” It all seemed to make sense to Nicole’s mildly wine addled mind. Decisions made by spinning plants? Sure, why not.

**_Nothing to do with the fact that you would’ve given in to her no matter what?_ **

_Bullshit Mom._

**_Bullshit Nicole._ **

“I’m on a roll! So how about you tell me your ‘Nic’ name for me now?”

Nicole sputtered and tipped out half the box of food into CJ’s bowl.

“Uhhhhhhh… You remembered that?” She asked cautiously.

“I. Am. Relentless.” Waverly stalked over to Nicole, backing her up against the kitchen cupboards by tapping her finger against Nicole’s chest. Her gaze never wavered and she almost purred as she spoke. “When there’s something I wanna know, I don’t wanna wait.” 

Nicole forgot how to draw air into her lungs. She could feel a cupboard door handle digging in between her shoulder blades. She was skewered in place, snagged on a lure crafted from the intensity of Waverly’s gaze. Waverly kept walking, taking that extra half step into Nicole’s personal space. Their bodies were pressed closer than they had ever been before and still, Waverly’s gaze never faltered. 

If Waverly reached out to her now, Nicole wasn’t sure she would be able to stop herself from pulling her further in, from consuming her with fire in her hands fed from the forge in her heart. 

She imagined it all in the blink of an eye. Her hands on Waverly’s waist, her breath whispering in Waverly’s ear how much she wanted her. Her hips pushing back against Waverly’s body as she turned her, flipping their positions so it was Nicole driving their contact. She would lean down to taste Waverly’s lips for the first time and she would be unable to stop herself from moaning in satisfaction from the sweet release of finally opening herself completely to her desire.

Nicole longed to move, to touch, but... 

But.

There was still a hint of uncertainty, a flash of questioning deep in Waverly’s gaze that Nicole could never ignore, would never push past. 

Waverly didn’t know what she wanted. 

Her eyes told a story bounded by hesitancy despite her bold actions. It wasn’t enough for Nicole to believe Waverly wanted more than ‘just friends’. 

So Nicole dropped her gaze and shook her head. “Oh no. We are not going here. Nooope.” She raised her hands, denying Waverly, who responded by immediately backing away. The cool air that Nicole could swear she felt rush between them thoroughly quenched the moment. Nicole couldn’t look at her.

“You can’t ‘nope’ out of this, Nicole.” Waverly’s quiet tone held a note of disengaged annoyance, as if she were angry at something other than her refusal to discuss Waverley’s ‘Nic’ name.

“I can and I will. My house, my rules.” Nicole crossed her arms, a defensive move she knew just made her look petulant. Especially in the face of Waverly’s determination not to let the subject go.

“Well I’ll just have to get you around to my house then. It’ll be my rules then and my rules say you have to tell me.”

“Well, I’m safe then. You live 200 miles away!” 

“It’s 231 miles away actually.”

“Not the point, Waverly.”

“What _is_ the point, Nicole?” Waverly’s voice had turned to steel, offering a challenge to Nicole she could not refuse. She’d been given a moment of slack on the line but it was clear, Nicole was not off the hook yet. She raised her eyes to find the steel reflected in Waverly’s stare.

“The point is, I…” Now it was Nicole’s turn to hesitate, her breath catching, making her gasp for the right words to say what she really wanted to say.

**_Tell her…_ **

_I can’t._

**_You’re not talking about silly nicknames and you know it! This is it. This is the moment!_ **

_No. It’s not Mom._

“The point is, Bobo says you win. We’ll make a ‘Three Queens Cake’ Showstopper to honour the Haught’s recipe book with a ‘grandma’ trinket in it instead of a baby, okay? We’ll braid the dough and colour it Pride rainbow instead of in the traditional colours.”

Waverly was silent for a beat, then another and then a third. Nicole counted each beat as her heart ran track through her chest, jumping irregular hurdles as she waited for a response from (Uhhhhhhh), the woman who owned her utterly and completely.

“Fine.” Waverly finally spoke with a large outward breath. Her shoulders slumped in acquiescence but her words let Nicole know it was only a temporary truce.

“This isn’t over. I will get my ‘Nic’ name from you.”

“I don’t know, you might have to kill me first.” Nicole spoke with utter sincerity, causing Waverly to raise an eyebrow.

“That could be arranged, you know? Wynonna has some pretty dodgy connections.” The smile was back in Waverly’s voice and Nicole finally felt her heart rate slacken a little. 

Relief poured through her body as the woman she loved threatened to have her killed. 

( `⌒*)O-(˘◡˘Q)

**Bake Off Tent  
** **Gardner Estate, Nanaimo  
** **SUNDAY**

_I think I’m dying._

_Drowning maybe._

_Definitely suffocating._

_It’s so hard to breathe._

**_It’s not that hot in here Nicole._ **

_No. Just stifling._

Nicole cast a guilty look towards the back of the tent, where Waverly Earp had disappeared into the preparation kitchen to make them both a well earned cup of herbal tea now that their Three Queens cake was in the oven.

_Five days, Mom. I haven’t been able to breathe for five days. Every unintentional touch, every taste of our test bakes, every subtle glance that makes it look like she wants...more. I think she’s trying to kill me._

**_Murder by flirtatious insinuation? There are worse ways to go._ **

_Mom…_

**_What?_ **

_That is in supremely bad taste._

**_I’m sorry, have you MET me?_ **

Nicole didn’t get the chance to continue arguing with the memory of her mother because Waverly returned more quickly than Nicole had expected. The brief respite of air afforded by her absence evaporated in an instant. The pressure in her chest tightened around her rapidly beating heart. Nicole was wound up tighter than a spun sugar bird’s nest, and in the heat of the Bake Off tent, she felt like she was in danger of melting into a useless, sticky pool of caramel. 

Waverly pressed a steaming mug into her hand, their fingers brushing together as they had so many times already over this long weekend. All Nicole could do was sigh at the feeling of it, quickly covering the noise up by taking a sip. If Waverly heard it, she showed no outward sign, instead subtly pointing towards her sister and Dolls at the station next to them. 

**“** Nicole. Look.” As Nicole cast a glance towards Wynonna, she was just in time to witness her pinching Dolls’ ass as she moved past him to one of their ovens.

“Oh my god. They’re as subtle as a brick.” ****

**_YOUR HONOUR, I PRESENT TO THE JURY EXHIBIT A, MY DAUGHTER. USELESS LESBIAN SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL!_ **

“Nedley and Jeremy seem to be doing well though.” Ignoring her mom, Nicole turned to look behind them. Jeremy’s arm was restricted by his bandages so he could only work one handed, leaving the kneading work largely up to Nedley. He tired more easily and often sat on a stool provided by production just to make sure he got through the day. They looked happy and relaxed in their work, smiling and joking as they went. The same could not be said for the other two teams.

Champ looked like a perennially naughty school boy who had finally realised he was only going to graduate by bucking up and following orders. He did absolutely nothing unless he had been ordered to do so by Mattie, and she appeared to have him on a short leash. He actually flinched every time she spoke to him.

More concerning was Fish. He and Bunny barely spoke or interacted, although Nicole had seen him try over the course of the Signature and Technical challenges the previous day. The cameras seemed to be spending quite a bit of time with the pair, perhaps sensing impending doom.

“What is Bunny doing? She knows the brief. Is she really so homophobic that she won’t even talk to him?” Nicole was genuinely puzzled as to how Bunny thought this was going to help her progress through the competition.

“Hmmm…” Waverly sounded pensive, like she was unsure if she should share her opinion. “Well, I was just thinking.” She sighed, turning to lean back against the workstation, taking another sip of her tea. “Sometimes, it’s possible to know something, to have knowledge, but be utterly unsure how to act on it.” 

Waverly leaned slightly, looking around Nicole towards the camera crew at the back of the tent. Determining that they were suitibly occupied filming Bunny and Fish, Waverly continued.

“I think Bunny is well aware of what’s happening, she’s just utterly ill-equipped to deal with it. She’s along for the ride like the people who just sat down and watched while the Titanic sank around them.”

“So, she’s kind of in panic mode? Locked in indecision.”

“Yeah, I read about it once in a history of fear. You can know you’re in danger and just do nothing to save yourself because your brain can’t decide on the right action. I mean, any action other than watching something just play out before you is better than sitting still waiting for the ‘right’ decision to come to you, isn’t it?”

Nicole thought she might know a little something about that. “It’s not easy…”

“No. It’s not easy to be brazen when the embodiment of your fear is right in front of you.”

Waverly raised her eyes to Nicole’s with a curious, imploring look pouring out of them. She almost looked like she was begging, leaving Nicole feeling perplexed, like she’d missed the point of their conversation.

“Waves..?” Before she could inquire further, a timer went off, drawing the attention of the camera crew back towards their end of the tent and the opportunity was gone. 

Soon, chaos reigned, as bakers struggled to cool their bakes and add finishing touches. Everywhere except Nicole and Waverly’s station. They had their timings down to the last minute and already had their cake resting on the edge of their station, drawing an admiring look from Mary and Paul. 

“God, look at you two teachers pets!” Wynonna hissed as she wafted a tray over her bake. Nicole and Waverly just smiled at each other in appreciation, neither realising the other was flipping Wynonna off behind their backs.

The judging went by in a flash. 

Champ and Mattie earned praise for their flavourings and Wynonna was overjoyed to have received an ‘it’s okay’ from the judges, giving Dolls an excited high five even as he frowned in disappointment. Nedley and Jeremy also received a mere pass with Paul not willing to even acknowledge the work Jeremy had managed with only one functional arm. Next, Bunny and Fish were eviscerated. Particularly by Mary who knew it was largely Bunny’s reluctance to listen to Fish that had caused their domino effect disasters. 

Lastly, Nicole and Waverly took their turn before the judges.

“Remind us about your king cake?” Paul asked the pair standing nervously before the table, his knife poised to cut through it.

“Most king cakes are baked in honour of the three wise men, the three kings of the bible, but we decided to celebrate three queens of Nicole’s family history.” Waverly answered.

Nicole’s eyes trained on Paul’s knife like it was a threat. Hours of work were about to be cleft in twain and the way Paul milked it by slowly pressing downwards as they talked only exacerbated Nicole’s nerves further. 

Not that stoking the embers of Nicole’s nerves was hard. Waverly had snaked her arm around her back and squeezed her so tightly Nicole wondered why she hadn’t simply popped like a bubble-wrap cell.

“Um, yeah. Not that Haught’s are royalty or anything.” Nicole stammered out as she watched the knife press a little further, and felt Waverly’s fingers curl tightly into the side of her shirt. “Th.. th..this was mostly Waverly’s idea actually. She was reading through my grandmother’s recipe book which, as you know, has generations of recipes in it...”

“We thought, what better celebration of family than honoring those who have gone before?” Waverly’s bright interruption saved her from the torture of speaking. It was just as well. There wasn’t any air left in the tent in which to breathe anyway. Because Waverly’s fingers had pulled her top up so far that they were now idly stroking a sliver of exposed skin.

**_This. This is what death is like ‘Cole._ **

_Okay. Good to know._

“I love the idea and unsurprisingly, it looks stunning with the pride flag colours. It really brings a happy brightness to the bake, and now I can’t wait to try it out.” Mary proclaimed.

“So what trinkets am I going to find when I cut through this? I doubt it’s the traditional plastic babies.” Paul asked as the knife pressed just hard enough to begin cracking the icing.

“Weeeell. That was kind of hard to decide, actually. We wanted to have something that represented…” Paul didn’t wait for the full explanation. He plunged the knife down roughly, destroying the effect of the colourful rainbow icing with relish, sinking through the dough right to the wooden cutting board beneath.

“Um, be careful with the… Paul! They’re collectors items!” Unable to stop herself, Nicole tore herself away from Waverly, rushing forward to rescue the three plastic figures hidden carefully in the centre. She plucked them angrily from the table and returned to her mark with them cradled to her chest like precious jewels. 

A gentle laughter rippled around the tent at her expense but she didn’t care. She had saved the tiny mini-figures of Dorothy, Sophia and Blanche from a knife wielding Paul Hollywood and that was all that mattered to her right now.

“Paul!” Waverly admonished him. “The Golden Girls are very important to Nicole, okay? We put in Dorothy for her Mom, Blanche for her Grandmother and Sophia for her Great-Grandmother!”

“What about Rose?” Sue asked as she gently reached out, a silent question asking to be allowed to look at one in more detail. Nicole passed her the Dorothy figurine reluctantly but was pleased when she handled her with care and held it up for the camera’s to take a close up shot.

“It’s a _three_ queens cake so we had to drop…”

“Rose is Nicole.” Waverly blurted out to the room to the loud guffaws of her fellow bakers.

**_It’s like life is a giant weenie roast and you’re the biggest weenie, isn’t it?_ **

_Thanks mom. So helpful._

“This. Is. Excellent.” Paul interrupted the merriment with his overall verdict. “The spices all blend perfectly and the flavours melt in the mouth. I think there’s something pretty special in your grandmother’s recipes Nicole.” 

“Oh, I can’t let the Haughts take the credit. It’s Waverly we have to thank for the flavours. She discovered a wonderful local market near my place and…” She trailed off as she realised her mistake at the same moment as Wynonna audibly snorted from across the room. “Uhhhhhhh….”

Waverly cleared her throat and took over as both Paul and Mary’s eyes widened. “I met a lovely elderly woman there who made a few suggestions.” She leaned further into Nicole, making the taller woman blush furiously. 

_Does she know what she’s doing?_

**_I hope so ‘Cole-‘Cole, because there isn’t really any other way to spin this._ **

“Nicole and I stayed up _all_ night practicing it until we got it right.” It looked like Waverly deliberately caught Sue’s eye at that point and winked at her. Actually winked.

“Well, your practice shows, because this bake is technically perfect, the team work you displayed throughout the week was also stunning.” Pauls’ eyes twinkled with something Nicole couldn’t quite pin down. It looked like admiration with a side-order of mirth.

Theirs was the final judgement filmed before the judges retired for star baker and elimination decisions, giving the bakers a small respite before the final interviews of the week. As the camera’s stood down and the bakers wandered away, Nicole turned to Waverly, shock evident on her face.

“Waves!”

“What? I can be brazen when I want to be. Come on Nicole. Break time in the Garden!” Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand and led her from the tent.

Waverly was relentless.

Nicole endured.

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**EXT. CROFTE STREAM  
** Waverly and Nicole are seated together on the stone wall of the bridge. They’re so close that there is no space between them. They each have an arm wrapped behind each other, just as they did throughout the Showstopper judging. Waverly’s top is unbuttoned and as she talks, her free hand absentmindedly plays with the thin gold necklace revealed. She looks happy and relaxed, her smile wide and open. Nicole’s eyes dart around as if she’s not quite sure where she should be looking.

**WAVERLY  
** (So deliriously excited she can’t keep still)

I’m so happy! We won Star Baker!!! Can you believe it!?

 **NICOLE  
** (So still she can’t show her own excitement)

Yeah, I can Waves. You were brilliant. As always.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Slightly indignant)

Hey. _WE_ were brilliant.

 **NICOLE  
** (Quietly)

Oh no. That was all you. The whole week… it was always you, Waves.

Waverly pauses, turning to stare silently at Nicole until Nicole notices and returns her gaze. A battle of wills ensues, the silent staring going on for longer than is comfortable for either them. Nicole wriggles because Waverly has started poking her in the ribs behind her back. Her eyes widen as Waverly’s face sets in determination. The poking finger drops to where Nicole’s shirt is still partially pulled out and Waverly’s fingers dance across her skin, making her lose the impromptu staring contest immediately.

 **NICOLE  
** (Almost shouting)

Okay! Yup, huge team effort. There was no plan ‘B’. We played to our strengths and nailed it. I was a full and equal participant in the play at all times and we were _both_ brilliant this week.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Hopeful and enthusiastic)

That’s better. Despite the sports cliches. So… star baker hug?

 **NICOLE  
** (Flustered)

Uhhhhhhh...

Waverly leaps from sitting into a full body hug that Nicole barely has time to react too. Waverly’s arms are wrapped over her shoulders so Nicole’s naturally pull tight around her waist. She definitely didn't turn her face into the mess of Waverly’s hair and find a small pocket of air in which to regain her breath.

 **CUT. EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Bunny is overdressed for standing around in the full sun of the late afternoon. She stands primly, her lips pulled tight as she tries to remain magnanimous in defeat.

**BUNNY**

It is a shame to be forced to leave so soon, but now I have the time to devote to the P.T.A. I know they have missed my presence immensely and will be enormously grateful for my returning contribution. There is at least one place where my opinions matter.

 **CUT.  
** Fish is smiling, as always, during his interview. He clearly holds no grudges for the way Spice Week played out.

 **FISH  
** (Shrugging)

I made my peace with leaving the tent long ago. Regret is hollow. It ain’t worth a thing. I’m looking forward to going home to see my husband and my kids. I’ve missed them so much. Makes me grateful. For the life I very nearly never had. I count my blessings every day for his courage to tell me how he felt about me. Being open to things that scare you. Bravery in the face of fear. I owe it everything. I think… I think some people could do with learning that lesson.

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**Croft Conservatory  
** **SUNDAY EVENING**

Nicole ran away.

The instant Waverly was distracted by something her sister had said, Nicole slipped away from the dining hall. She walked until she could feel the air in her lungs again, eventually finding herself cornered inside the large Crofte Conservatory tucked almost invisibly behind the Italian gardens.

The extraordinary building was large enough to fit a full sized basketball court and bleachers inside it. The glass ceiling rose high above her, resting on an ancient metal frame that had been lovingly protected by several full coats of weather-proofing white paint. Divided into thirds by it’s frame, each section featured a central row of orchid pots packed tightly together, rising so high visitors could not see from one side to the other. 

The outer walls were also stacked with unique varieties of cycads, bromeliads and ferns. Large enough to house a few fruit trees and a patch dedicated to pineapple plants, the place was breathtaking.

Yet Nicole had hardly noticed it in her distracted state. She had walked quickly through one side of the running track layout to the back third of the building, finding a small, private niche tucked behind a beautiful water wheel servicing a large stone pond. Koi carp scattered under rocks and oxygen weed at Nicole’s hasty entrance as if they had more right to hide away than she did. 

Nicole took a seat on the circular stone wall of the pool and stared at the fish as they slowly emerged to swim lazily about their home. She envied them the simplicity of their lives. Time passed quietly, and Nicole breathed.

_This isn’t so bad…_

**_You’re alone, hiding in a greenhouse, staring at decorative fish that are considered a pest in most countries. How is this not bad?_ **

_I may be alone but at least my brain is at peace, mom._

**_But… I’m here._ **

_Your presence has never felt more peaceful._

**_I think I resent this. I am here for one purpose and one purpose only._ **

_Which is?_

**_To make you think._ **

**_To make you question._ **

**_To ask you difficult questions, like why are you hiding here? You’ve just spent five days enjoying the company of the woman you love. I’m literally in your brain, I know you want even more. So I’ll repeat myself, why are you here?_ **

_Because here I don’t have to run everything through an interpreter. Waverly is…she’s…I don’t understand her, Mom._

The last five days had brought a distinct change in energy between them. Something indefinable and intangible, a shift that had Nicole feeling like she was constantly gasping for air while also glowing with warmth from deep inside herself. 

There were times when Waverly would laugh or smile, or look at her in that way she would, that made Nicole feel like she was some kind of ancient tablet Waverly was trying to decode and those were the times she felt like she might actually die from the stabbing pain she felt in her chest.

_Sometimes, I think she really, really wants more from me but can’t say it. Sometimes she pushes me away so hard that I can’t help but reel from the force of it._

**_She’s clearly working through what she wants._ **

_I know. I totally respect that. I just wish…that what she wanted, was me._

**_What makes you think she doesn’t?_ **

_I scare her. She told me to my face. I ‘embody her fear’._

Nicole picked at the pebbled wall of the pond until a few stones fell free into her hand. She flicked them free with her thumb, allowing the silence that fell from her mother in smothering waves to be broken by the gentle plop they made as they hit the water. The Koi shied away as sharply as Waverly whenever Nicole responded to her shameless flirting.

Suddenly, a pair of unwelcome voices floated into her ears from the nearby Italian gardens. One was Champ. The other was… 

_Waverly._

“Oh, hell no. Nope, nope, nope.” Nicole tried to push herself back into the surrounding ferns as if they would somehow render her invisible. 

**_Stealthy._ **

_Shhhhh, Mom!_

The voices grew ever louder and Nicole heard the hinges of the double front doors scream in protest at the force they had been opened with by Champ.

_Oh, god. Please fuck off Champ!_

“These flowers sure are pretty, Waverly. They remind me of you.” 

“Um, thanks, I guess, but these are orchids, Champ. Orchid comes from the greek ‘Orchis’, meaning testicle. So if anything these flowers remind me of you.” 

**_OH! BURN!_ **

Nicole smothered her surprise. She could hear every word now the pair were inside. It was only a matter of time before they caught up to her and when they did, they would see a pale, 5’9 red-headed woman sitting about with her mouth gaping open and shut like a fish. The koi returned from their hiding places to mock her. Apparently carp were bitches like that.

Rising slightly to peek at the pair through the fern fronds, Nicole saw Waverly striding down the corridor. She wasn’t out for a stroll, or to enjoy the beauty of the garden, she was moving with purpose. Champ followed her like an unwelcome remora. “How’d someone so pretty get so smart, huh?” Champ reached out to Waverly, stopping her with a hand to her arm. 

“Because they’re not mutually exclusive, Champ.” Waverly visibly sighed with annoyance. Her patience had apparently run out. “What do you want? Why did you follow me here?” Waverly folded her arms in front of herself defensively. 

“I’m being a gentleman.” Champ explained. “It’s getting dark and I wouldn’t want you wandering around the property by yourself.”

“Why, Champ. Why shouldn’t I walk around by myself.” Waverly was angry now. Any hope Nicole had of escaping an Earplosion was rapidly diminishing. So she waited to be discovered. 

She endured, once again breathless and anxiety ridden.

“Hey, It’s not a crime to care about people. Look, let’s get real. You’re hot and everyone’s gonna love you when this show is broadcast. We’d make a great team you know. We could conquer the world together!”

“Champ. I am NOT interested in you. Not now, and not ever.” Nicole couldn’t help the delight that filled her with Waverly’s categorical rejection. Her face had conveyed disgust at the very thought of it.

“Oh, I think I could change your mind.” Champ’s tone was all smarm. The man oozed oblivious entitlement. Nicole stood carefully, fully prepared to draw Waverly’s ire to her by intervening if Champ moved even an inch further towards her, but Waverly’s reaction defused the growing tension quicker than a water balloon smashing on the sidewalk.

She laughed.

Loudly, uproariously, bent over at the waist holding in her sides, laughed in Champs face. 

“Oh, Champ. No. I’m sorry, but you _never_ had a chance with me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I know you don’t.” Waverly spoke with her characteristic empathy. Nicole had noticed this about her. It wouldn’t matter how ignorant Champ revealed himself to be, Waverly would try and educate and enlighten before deliberately seeking to mock or berate. So unlike her sister.

“Look, here…” Waverly pointed to a plant behind Champ. It was in full bloom and even from a distance, Nicole could make out the suggestive shape of the beautiful pink and white petals.

“What does this look like to you.” Waverly implored him to examine its shape.

To his credit, Champ at least tried, taking a long look at the flower, even gently cradling a bloom in his hand. “Huh, I don’t know.” 

“Orchids are famously phallic, Champ.” Waverly paused here, indicating the flower in his upturned hand. “These are yonic, that is to say, the opposite of phallic.” 

“What’s the opposite of phallic?”

“You want me to draw you a diagram?”

Champ paused for a minute as his thoughts seemed to dance like fabric motes in a tumble dryer. Then his face lit up comically in dawning realisation. Champ stopped fondling the flower head immediately. 

“Now you’ve got it. I’m only interested in one, very specific, rare and beautiful red-bordered yonic flower right now Champ.” Waverly’s voice had grown soft, almost dreamy. 

**_Holy…_ **

_Does she mean…?_

It was a jarr to hear Champ’s too loud and aggressive voice interrupt.

“Fine. I get it Waverly. I can find a summer girlfriend anywhere I like. You don’t need to shove your bent agenda down my throat.”

“AND…” Waverly continued with more force, not allowing Champ another second to continue. “...even if I were in the market for orchids I wouldn’t be interested in the tiny-minded, pathetically miniature bulbs you’re offering.”

Champ was already walking away. “You know you can’t have her right? At least not until after filming. It’s in your contracts. We aren’t supposed to fraternate.” He smiled like he’d dropped a cruel blow while saving his own ego.

“Do you mean ‘fraternise’ Champ?” He frowned as he clearly didn’t know. “So what did you hope to achieve by coming on to me tonight?”

He shrugged his shoulders as his back pushed through the exit. “Clearly nothing worth my time.” The double doors thwumped with finality as Champ left the conservatory.

“ASSHOLE!” The words were out of Nicole’s mouth before she could stop them.

( ＾▽＾)っ✂╰⋃╯

These damned event horizons.

Time should be a universal constant but physics and the Universe decided on a whim and practical experimentation that it would not be so, and it all seemed to be in service of ruining Nicole’s life.

Waverly stood facing the exit, her back to the alcove of pond and plants Nicole was hiding in, but she was turning. Turning in response to Nicole’s fervent expletive. Turning to catch her in the act of eavesdropping and hearing revealing things about plants that were not meant for her ears.

Nicole began to panic as the side of Waverly’s face began to appear. She was still turning, her nose bursting from the horizon of her cheek like the rising sun, turning inexorably towards the fading sound of Nicole’s voice. 

_Oh, she’s angry. She’s definitely angry. She has a right to be angry. I should’ve announced myself straight away. I could’ve made a joke, told her the flower looks more like my ex-wife, anything! Anything other than this!_

Nicole had time to think all the thoughts before Waverly’s eyes finally came into focus, locked on her own. Of course Waverly had captured her eyes immediately, as they were rather ineffectively camouflaged under a canopy of red hair trying to hide in green fernery.

“Asshole?”

Nicole still hadn’t remembered where her vocal chords were. Somewhere in her knees maybe? They were feeling pretty weak under the intensity of Waverly’s stare.

“I have been looking everywhere for you.” Waverly accused her like Nicole’s presence in the conservatory was a deliberate plot to avoid Waverly. To be fair, it absolutely was, but Waverly couldn’t know that. Could she?

“You run out on me to hide out here and then sat and watched while I crashed and burned trying to educate the living vacuum that is Champ freakin’ Hardy and all you can say is ‘Asshole’?”

Waverly stalked towards her with deliberate slowness, which only emphasised the fact that Nicole had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to.

“Not you! Him! Champ’s an _Asshole_.” There they were. Those pesky vocal chords to Nicole’s rescue, saying stupid things to Waverly Earp since four months ago.

Nicole had quickly run out of space to back up to, so she sat on the edge of the pond, waiting to see where Waverly’s approach would halt. 

“Is that his new ‘Nic’ name? Has he evolved from (boring) to (asshole) over the last four weeks?”

“Uhhhhhhh, if I said yes would you let me off the hook?” Nicole trialled a small smile, trying to keep her dimples in check. It only made Waverly’s ire more pronounced.

“Jesus, Nicole. You can’t put everyone into little convenient boxes, labelled and taxonimied with little fudging nicknames.” Waverly tapped aggressively at a plant nameplate, avoiding Nicole’s contrite gaze.

“They aren’t boxes.” Nicole’s response sounded small.

“What then?!”

“Parentheses.” Nicole clarified, as if the distinction mattered. “They’re little parentheses and they don’t mean anything…”

“Then why won’t you tell me mine? Let me guess. Is it (useless)? (idiot)? (wrong)?”

“What? No! Who calls you that?”

“What is it Nicole?”

“You want the truth?” Nicole stood suddenly, evaporating the small amount of space between them in the process. The desperately long week of endurance and restraint crashed and burned along with her resolve. She had lost any shred of patience and control she might have thought she once had and words tumbled from her mouth almost before they’d been formed in her head.

“Yes!” Waverly’s voice challenged and begged all at once.

“Your name is, and I’m afraid will always be, an exclamation and not a fucking word! I’ve told you, every time you asked me what your ‘nic’ name is. It’s simply the sound (Uhhhhhhh).” 

Nicole hated the look that crossed Waverly’s face then. It was a confused, surprised sort of expression that made Nicole feel ridiculous. She closed her eyes against the sight because she was resolved now. She would say her piece but that didn’t mean she had to look at Waverly when she realised how ridiculous she actually was.

“I tried changing it to (kindness), to (warmth), to (soulful) or (home) but every time I look at you my brain just goes…”

Nicole mimed an explosion with her hand to her head and then fell into silence. They were standing so close now, Nicole knew even with her eyes closed because she was close enough to feel Waverly’s short breaths gently caress her chin. Close enough to feel the moment Waverly’s breath caught in her throat.

“It drives me insane that the stupid little nickname I assigned to you the instant you looked up at me at regionals was the sound of you taking my breath away.”

Waverly was silent for a beat, then another and then a third. 

Nicole’s heart was back to running track in her chest. This time it was nearing exhaustion, sluggish and wearily stumbling through the hurdles instead of jumping them, while the finish line just seemed to move further and further away.

“Fuck it.” 

“What?” Nicole opened her eyes, finally, to see Waverly Earp, staring right into her soul, and that was the last breath she exhaled for several long moments.

Because Waverly Earp was kissing her, taking her breath away for real.

Somehow, Waverly’s hands were in Nicole’s hair, pulling her head down while the momentum of their bodies crashing together carried them steadily backwards. Taken aback, Nicole grabbed at Waverly’s wrists in a vain attempt to steady them as they pitched backwards. Until her calves met the stone wall of the pond, halting the movement of her legs but physics didn’t halt the movement of their bodies.

They tipped.

Nicole didn’t even feel herself surrender to gravity. All she could feel was Waverly. 

_Waverly._

Waverly Earp tasted like things that people shouldn’t taste like. 

Summer. 

Brilliance. 

Starshine. 

Fulfillment. 

They tipped until the cold waters of the pond broke their tentative bond, lips wrenched away prematurely as Nicole’s back hit the water, sliding quickly under the waves they made. She tried to push Waverly away, up and out of the worst of the splash, but she forgot to let go of her wrists, so they both went under, quickly and completely enveloped in scummy pond water, oxygen weed and the startled bodies of massive, decorative fish.

Nicole couldn’t breathe. 

With Waverly’s weight holding her down until she could gather control of her limbs and roll off and out of the pond, Nicole could do nothing but wait and marvel at the event that had led to her strange, probable drowning. 

_Here lies Nicole Haught. Died flailing in the arms of the woman she loves..._

Yeah, oxygen was becoming quite the problem, but Nicole found she didn’t care.

Because Waverly Earp had kissed her.

“OH MY GOD! NICOLE! NICOOOOOLE!”

Strong arms suddenly had a hold of her shirt and she was levered forward, out of the water like a bad movie vampire rising from a coffin.

“Are you okay? Holy shit! Where did this pond come from? Seriously!”

Nicole heard Waverly. She really did, but in between the bucketfuls of air she was gulping down all she could concentrate on was Waverly’s face. She was horrified, concerned, panicked and yet held a look of such adoration the sight of it wrapped something warm and permanent around Nicole’s heart.

“Nicole? Say something, damn it!”

Nicole just continued to stare at her dreamily, replaying the kiss over and over in her head. Later, she’d blame this feedback loop for the words she said first after receiving the kiss of her life from Waverly Earp.

“You’re wet.”

Waverly choked on her relieved laugh in reaction to Nicole’s unintended double entendre.

“Yeah, well… So are you.”

The smiles crept up their faces, slow and determined, until they were laughing uncontrollably. 

They were ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Standing around in a beautiful conservatory, dripping wet and covered head to toe in pond weed. Slowly, their shared mirth began to die back and they both realised they were going to have to talk about what just happened. 

Nicole reached out her hand and gently began removing bits of green from Waverly’s hair. 

“What happened to just friends?” Nicole voiced her main concern tentatively. 

Waverly’s response was immediate, and heartfelt. “You changed my mind.” 

“How?” 

“By being you. By being relentlessly charming, gorgeous and unfailingly kind. I’ve never met anyone like you, Nicole. You’re… You’re just so… Nicole. You know?

Nicole didn’t know what to say to that. She found herself shaking her head, not in denial of Waverly’s words, but in incomprehension.

“You’re important and I don’t quite know what to do, or how to be. With you. And I do, I really really do but...god. What am I trying to say?” Waverly’s frustration carried through her physically. She bounced from the knees and her arms swayed back and forth like little fisted pendulums.

“I don’t want to be the one sitting down in the dining hall on the Titanic waiting to die, you know? I want to be the baker hanging off the back of the ship with Jack and Rose, drinking whisky and holding on for dear life until the last possible moment. Did you know he was a real historical figure? He really did hang off the back and was one of the survivors?” 

She was rambling now. Nicole could see Waverly knew it, but she remained silent, not wanting to put words in Waverly’s mouth, not wanting to startle her or cause her to jump too early and fall away from her.

“I FEEL so much and it’s just. Wow. It’s a LOT and I really want…”

_What do you really want Waverly? Say me. Say you want me. Please. Because I think it’s all I want in this life. To be wanted. By you._

_Waverly…_

_Waverly._

Nicole reached out, unable to stop herself offering touch as an anchor. She encircled Waverly’s hands with her own, stilling their frenetic movement. She held on silently while Waverly took a shaky breath, gathered her thoughts and tried again.

“You. I want you Nicole.” She said it firmly, with conviction, and with the power of universal truth.

Then, all was fire. No space for water, no space for air. Just the burning need to consume.

Waverly’s hands exploded out of her grip and reached for Nicole. They were tangled in her hair in seconds as Waverly surged towards her lips. Waverly was pressed tightly to her which Nicole wholeheartedly supported by throwing her arms around her lithe body, almost grabbing her in a bear hug of desperation.

This time, Waverly tasted like pond water but Nicole didn’t care, because she also tasted of joy. The most unlikely flavour combination Nicole had ever thought of, but it worked. Everything Waverly brought to her just _worked_.

Waverly suddenly lurched backwards, “Oh! God! Unless you don’t want…”

“I want. Waverly, I want to ride the stern of the Titanic with you.”

Waverly laughed. “Just so we’re clear which Rose you are in this scenario…” 

“Oh no, baby. In _this_ scenario, _you_ are Rose…” Nicole smiled as she closed the small gap between them, unconcerned at slipping in a pet name. “...and maybe I’m the baker.” She kissed along Waverly’s jaw line for a moment before continuing. “I’d swim over to you, prise Jack’s stupid frozen fingers out of your hand and climb right on that floating door. I’d keep you warm until rescue came and once we were safe, I’d take you home to paint you like...”

“You promise?” Waverly breathed an interrupted response.

“Of course. I’d do a lot of things to you, Waverly Earp.”

“Take me out.” Waverly said, suddenly. “On a date. Or, come up north and visit me at the Homestead this week. We could go out there and… What’s wrong?” Waverly’s hands slipped from Nicole’s hair. “Do you not want to…”

“Waves, I really, really want to do that, but I…”

Waverly looked devastated.

“I’m so sorry. I kind of swapped a bunch of shifts so I could spend time with you at home this week, and now I have to pay that back. I’ve got two double shifts and some overtime to catch up...” Nicole could see the acceptance dance across Waverly’s eyes but the disappointment remained. “...but Friday! Friday I am free all day. Could you, maybe take the train again? Come to the city early and I’ll take you out. Museums, dinner, dancing, bowling, poker, a petting zoo, anything you like, we’ll do it all before taking the last ferry to Nanaimo. Okay?”

“Well, as much as I don’t really like the idea of waiting, that does sound pretty amazeballs. All of it by the way. I want to go dancing _and_ visit a petting zoo with you.”

Nicole made a mental note to google-foo the shit out of ‘petting zoo dance halls in Vancouver city’ when she got home, but she wasn’t so preoccupied that she missed Waverly shiver.

“You’re cold.” It was a simple statement but one that carried an unwelcome inevitability. 

“No, I’m not.” Waverly tried to deny it but she had goose pimples running up the length of both arms. Nicole could feel them with every touch of her hands to Waverly’s body.

“Waverly, I’m not so vain as to think all of this is just because I’m touching you.”

“Yet, you're not so modest as to assume it’s entirely due to my wet clothes either.” Waverly’s eyes sparkled as she teased Nicole. “Maybe you should wrap me up in those beautiful, strong, warm arms of yours?”

“Maybe you should make me?”

“Oh, I’m gonna…” Waverly reached back up to Nicole’s face and leaned in to reacquaint their lips.

For the second time that evening, an unwelcome voice carried through the air. “BABYGIRL?!”

“ _Shit tickets!”_ Waverly cursed in frustration but didn’t move away from Nicole like she expected as soon as Wynonna crashed through the doors. “You in here? Found your Haught red-head yet?”

“We’re back here Wynonna!” Waverly called out while turning in Nicole’s arms, She very deliberately held on, preventing Nicole from unwrapping herself from around Waverly’s body. Clearly, she wanted her sister to know, contract be damned. Nicole grinned from ear to ear.

“Hi Wynonna.” Nicole opened with an exaggerated enthusiasm as Waverly’s sister came into view.

“What happened to you? Find a never-ending fountain of clam chowder and decide to dive on in or something?”

“We… went down.” Waverly pointed over her shoulder at the pond.

“With the Titanic.” Nicole found herself uselessly explaining.

“Oh, I bet you did baby girl. I bet you did.” Wynonna spoke to Waverly but she was looking at Nicole as she said it. Her face was set somewhere between (cold) and wryly amused and her slightly raised eyebrow told Nicole that they would be having a ‘conversation’ about what Wynonna had clearly interrupted sometime in the very near future.

“Were there not enough life jackets or something?” Nicole turned to look where Wynonna was pointing and saw three floating Koi.

“Shit!”

Waverly’s hands flew to her mouth. “We killed them?” her voice was tiny, devastated.

“It’s okay, Waves. It was an accident.” Nicole tried to comfort her, pulling Waverly into her chest while Wynonna rolled her eyes.

“Baby girl, they were probably the oldest and weakest ones. They had heart attacks after witnessing whatever the two of you were doing to get in that state.” Her finger pointed up and down their still wet bodies.

“Clearly more than one fish has been sacrificed in the name of gay this Friday.”

“It’s Sunday, Wynonna.”

“Good to know, Haughtsicle. Come on, we can have a dual wake. Bunny packed her shit and left so we’re celebrating Fish tonight. Get your useless lesbian heiny’s back to the castle. You have to drink for both of us.”

Wynonna turned abruptly, obviously expecting Nicole and Waverly to promptly follow, but instead they dawdled, hand in hand. Neither wanted to leave the imagined protection the conservatory had created for them.

“Do you think Champ’s right?” Waverly asked quietly.

“Champ? Right? What is this sentence?” Nicole joked.

“I mean about it being against the rules to…”

“Ah. I think it might technically be a breach of the contract but I don’t think I care.” Nicole answered honestly before looking down to Waverly for her take on the matter. “Do you?

Waverly was already shaking her head. “No. I don’t care. I want this.” she reaffirmed. “Perhaps, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Nicole nodded in understanding. It made sense to try and keep everything under wraps, at least until one of them left the tent. It wouldn’t matter after that. “We’ll have to be careful.” Nicole reasoned.

“Super careful.”

“Especially in the tent.”

“Yup.”

“We’ll have to plan clandestine walks after dinner.”

“Take our morning yoga somewhere a little more private. Or maybe hope Wynonna or Dolls leave the tent before us so our rooms are…”

“Waverly!” Nicole laughed and the lascivious look crossing Waverly’s face. She raised Waverly’s hand and kissed it gently. 

They reached the doors of the garden. When they walked through, Nicole would have to go back to normal life and pretend that the best half hour of her life so far, had never happened.

“When we go through that door, I’ll have to stop touching you like this…” She turned Waverly’s hand and kissed her palm, then her wrist.

“I know...” Waverly replied, tangling her other hand in Nicole’s hair again. It was Nicole’s newest favourite sensation in the world. “...and I’ll have to wait five days before I can touch you like this again.”

“I know.” It was Nicole’s turn to reply simply. “Maybe this can tide you over until our date?”

She leaned down and captured Waverly’s lips again. She poured every ounce of feeling into it by thinking about every longing look they’d exchanged over four months of growing adoration for this most extraordinary woman. This time, it was Nicole who had stolen Waverly’s breath away.

“BABY GIRL! Put down your new bath toy, you don’t know where she’s been! Hurry the fuck up!” 

Waverly broke the kiss with an annoyed huff. “Goddammit Wynonna. I’m so sorry about her. You are most definitely NOT a toy, Nicole…”

“I know, baby. I know.” She quickly pecked Waverly’s lips as she cupped her cheek with her hand. “I’m a beautiful, red-bordered, yonic flower.”

It was Waverly’s turn to border herself in a ring of red that flushed right around her face. “You’re lucky you’re so…” Waverly jumped up on tiptoes to crash their lips together repeatedly, creating superfluous stops to her drawn out sentence. 

“...damn…” 

“...amazing…”

She deepened the last kiss, striking Nicole dumb with it’s passion before withdrawing completely and banging through the conservatory door in pursuit of her impatient sister.

Nicole caught the door before it could swing back and hit her in the face and for the first time, Waverly Earp walked away from her, and she felt nothing but elation.

<x )))><<

**SUMMER  
** **Spice Week Broadcast  
** **The Homestead**

**_“You will be judged together for all of the bakes so teamwork and communication are going to be absolutely key to your success. Or to your failure.”_ **

**_“That’s right. A pair will fall this weekend. Who will it be?”_ **

Nicole had spent nearly 45 minutes watching the broadcast of Spice week, all from behind her hands in mortified embarrassment. Every shot that featured either her or Waverly seemed to include some sort of dopey smirk, side-eye or intentional looking unintentional touch, and each new shot received commentary from Wynonna.

“That’s gay.”

“That’s also gay.”

“That is _soooooo_ gay, Haught.”

“I take it back. That is the gayest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. That is Fellowship of the gay formed to transport the Ring of gay to Mount gay, level of gay.”

“Will you stop saying ‘gay’?” She was beginning to think Wynonna wasn’t teasing anymore, that she was actually annoyed. Nicole didn’t blame her. Even she was annoyed with herself.

“Will you stop _being_ so gay?” Wynonna implored from her traditional Thursday night position, slumped on the Homestead couch.

“Well, maybe if I could turn back time…” Nicole posited.

“Jesus, that’s the gayest thing you’ve said all evening.” At Nicole’s perplexed expression, Wynonna elaborated with “You’re not Cher.” as if the sentence explained all of life’s great mysteries. 

**_Waverly and Nicole. Would you please bring your Showstopper up to the table._ **

Nicole chanced a look at Wynonna as the broadcast continued. She looked both awed and disgusted at the same time. It was a look Nicole had gotten used to seeing on Wynonna’s face after filming Spice week. Tonight there was a hint of something else. It looked like anger. 

“God, Haught, look at you. You’re so gay for my sister.” 

“Hey, she was getting pretty close to being gay for me too at that point Wy. You must’ve noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed. _Everybody_ noticed Haught-shot.”

Looking at the screen, Nicole could see the truth of it. The editors had made sure that every subtle and not-so subtle side eye the presenters and judges gave each other, every little look between the other bakers, got screen time as Waverly and Nicole stood proudly next to their rainbow flag painted cake, each as oblivious as the other as to how ridiculously smitten they looked. 

**_This. Is. Excellent._ ** Paul’s proclamation found an answering beam in Waverly’s smile. Looking at it now on screen, Nicole couldn’t help but respond physically to it. Wavery’s smile would always hold power over her. Despite the growing anxiety about how obvious her feelings were being displayed on national television, Nicole couldn’t help but grin dopily as Waverly shone in the praise they received from the judges.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Wynonna yelled at the screen, muffled only slightly by the cushions Nicole threw in her direction.

“Fuck off Deputy dipshit. Twitter agrees!” Wynonna waved her phone at Nicole. “Listen. Cutie Clootie Cookies says ‘ _Is this the gayest episode of Bake Off ever transmitted?_ ’ See! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY!”

“Why are you like this?” Nicole shook her head in disbelief.

“How about this one: ‘ _I guess she is a ‘Copper Top’ if she’s making bakes with sisters!’_. Is ‘making bakes’ is a lesbian euphemism?” Wynonna asked with only a tinge of the snark from before. 

Nicole glared at her in silence.

“Eh, who cares. It is now. Or, will be after I… make it so.”

“What are you doing.”

“Tweeting.”

“Obviously. _What_ are you tweeting?”

“Tweet _ed_ Past tense. I yeet the tweet. It is done. I have made it so.”

“Tell me.”

“You have eyes.” Wynonna replied in the tone of ‘duh’. “Read it yourself.”

Nicole could feel a headache coming on, but she fished out her phone and found Wynonna’s profile anyway.

🤍 _Stoopid Carl and One Armed Clint liked  
_ **Wyno Whiskey** @WynoWhiskey * Just now  
Haught sure has Haught pants and a fine ass to put in ‘em but ew. No thanks. She was always ‘making bakes’ with my sister. Even when I begged them not to. They’ve baked in my barn, laundry, kitchen table, kitchen floor and I’m pretty sure they even baked on my stairs. 👀

Before she even finished reading it, Wynonna jolted in her chair and cackled louder than when she found out Bunny had booked a cruise to Portugal and had posted photos of herself with topless cabin boys on social media. “Look! You and your stupid girlfriend are trending! You’re only number eight!”

“What do you mean ‘only number eight’! How are we trending at all!? Holy Shit!”

“Come on Haught-head, what did you expect? Waverly practically announced she was sleeping with you during the signature judging.”

“She wasn’t. Not...yet.”

“Nobody cares, Nicole.” As Wynonna jabs went it was a little blunt. She didn’t even bother to make a Haught pun.

“What’s the matter Wynonna. Are you... jealous?” Wynonna just looked at her and Nicole finally saw it. Wynonna wasn’t teasing. She _was_ angry, but not about the broadcast or the social media fallout.

“Jesus, Haught. Not everything is about you.”

“Hey. What’s really wrong?” Nicole spoke softly, as if talking to an injured animal she didn’t want to frighten off. She should have known that a softly, softly approach was absolutely the wrong one to take with this Earp sister.

“Nothing, narc.” Wynonna flinched away from Nicole, getting up from the couch to grab a drink from the Kitchen. 

A loud, purposeful knock on the Homestead door startled both women as neither had heard a car on the dusty gravel drive.

Catching each other's eyes briefly, Nicole was still surprised by Wynonna’s sudden movement. Before she could react, Wynonna had grabbed the unregistered shotgun Nicole refused to acknowledge the existence of, and marched purposefully to the door, throwing it open with flair.

Raising the shotgun to her shoulder, all was silent for a moment before Wynonna lowered the barrel, but only a little.

“Will people just stop randomly turning up by surprise at my home!” Wynonna looked pointedly at Nicole when she said this, lacing every word with her anger, emphasising the word ‘my’ in the phrase ‘my home’.

“Wynonna, may I come in? I would like to talk about our…”

“No. Fuck off Doc. I told you at Shorty’s I don’t need you. I don’t want you.”

“But, our daughter…”

Nicole, witnessing the exchange from the couch felt the exact moment the mood in the room changed. The chill rolling off Wynonna in waves towards her, the look in her eyes went way beyond the (cold) she had often seen in them.

“You know, I figured you must’ve called him but I didn’t expect you to tell him. I mean, Jesus. That’s a new level of narc, even for you.” The calmness with which she spoke frightened Nicole more than the slow raising of the shotgun in her direction.

“I didn’t Wy. I got a couple of texts from him, but that’s all. I swear I didn't. I would never!”

“Wynonna, please. Miss Haught is correct, I…”

“Shut Up Doc. I’m not talking to you.” Wynonna waved the shotgun still pointed in Nicole’s general direction. “You. Get out.”

“Wynonna…” Nicole rose slowly from the couch, wincing slightly as she pushed up with her left arm.

“Oh, don’t play the cripple card with me super-narc.”

Nicole walked carefully over to the door. She wasn’t truly threatened by the gun but Doc’s sudden appearance had clearly rattled Wynonna. Arguing with her now was pointless. As she passed her friend, Wynonna tapped her on the arm none too gently with the barrel. A nasty sneer curling her lips. “Did they give you a purple heart for that?” 

“Not how it works, Wy.” Nicole spoke softly, concerned at the cruelty in Wynonna’s tone.

“It got you in my sister's pants though.” 

Bringing Waverly into things immediately fanned Nicole’s anger. “I got STABBED Wynonna! It fucking hurt!

“Boo fucking hoo!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Nicole could see Wynonna regretted them.

“Actually, that’s legit as ‘F’.” Wynonna conceded, bristling with distaste even as she did so. 

“What is this, Wynonna? What’s gotten into you?”

“ _You_ , and _him_ and my fucking _absentee_ sister, but mostly you, actually.”

“Me? What have I done?”

Wynonna adopted a mocking, high pitched tone and parroted versions of Nicole’s own words back at her. “Oh, what if people think I’m dating the wrong Earp, what if people are mean to me online. You never stop whining at me about fucking Waverly and yes I wish I had re-phrased that!”

Nicole was taken aback by the vehemence in her tone. It was like she was finally uncorked, once the first grievance was verbalised, Wynonna couldn’t seem to stop.

“Waverly is paying me back, like she’s entitled to do. I left her alone for all those years and now it’s my turn. I deserve it, but I’m sick of hearing about how fucking sad _you_ are Haught. She’s my sister and she’s left me here. With you, and you made me feel…”

Wynonna’s anger, fuelled by stockpiled resentment, began to sputter and die, losing energy as Nicole noticed a traitorous tear escaping. The fact that she saw it concerned Nicole far more than Wynonna’s actual words.

“What, Wy?”

Wynonna hastily wiped at her face. “You gave me all that shtick, all that hope when you told me about your Mom, how she was a superhero for raising you on her own, and you made me feel like… like I could... but the whole time you didn’t believe it!”

“I do, Wynonna. I do believe...” Wynonna seemed beyond reason. She finally lowered the gun completely, but only so she could free her arm to push Nicole through the open Homestead door.

“No. You went behind my back and did whatever shady cop shit you do just to get the world’s most unwilling father to ride his shitty moustache into town. You’re supposed to by MY friend, Nicole. My BEST friend. Well, you know what? I don’t need you. You hear that?” Wynonna’s attention turned to Doc.

“I don’t fucking need you either, Doc so just… get the FUCK off my porch!”

The sound of the door slamming in their faces echoed through the timbers of the old building. 

Doc crouched down on his haunches and slipped a piece of paper under the door, speaking quietly in hopes Wynonna might hear, or perhaps deliberately so she would not.

“I bought one of those fancy cellular phones you all think are so necessary. This is my number. For if you change your mind.”

“I’M NOT GOING TO CHANGE MY MIND!” 

Doc stumbled back from the door into Nicole just as Wynonna reopened it, throwing Nicole’s service jacket aimlessly at her head.

“MAKE LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON AND BEAT IT!” The door slammed unceremoniously in their faces for the second time that evening. Closely followed by a third as Wynonna retrieved Nicole's boots and also threw them at her head. “AND THE HORSE’S _DICK_ YOU RODE IN ON!”

There was a distinct pause as both Nicole and Doc stood, still staring at the closed door, wondering if there would be a fourth fullstop to Wynonna’s rage, but it never came. Nicole heard Doc’s intake of breath, a sixth sense telling her an inappropriate joke was forming on his lips.

“Doc, if you say the word ‘Hormones’ I’m going to march back in there, wrestle the gun off her and shoot you in the face. Are we clear?”

A look of chagrin crossed his face. “As crystal, Constable Haught.”

Nicole sighed as she shoved her feet in her boots and shrugged into the jacket. “It’s Deputy up here, Doc. Deputy Sheriff.”

“Well, then. Deputy. Could I bother you and your steed parked in the driveway for a ride back into town? Perhaps you would care to join me for a drink at Shorty’s?” 

“Sure, Doc. I’m off duty.” Nicole sat on the porch to lace her boots. Doc’s soft voice asked quietly behind her.

“What shall we do about…”

“Time.” Nicole interrupted. “That’s what Earps always need. Space and air and a little time to breathe it in. We just have to be patient.”

“I think I understand your meaning. I must confess, Wynonna and I were not together for very long but I feel greatly for her. I will understand if she rejects me as I want her to be happy. I want her to be safe. I want our baby to…”

Doc’s voice trailed away in melancholy and Nicole reached over and slapped his shoulder in acknowledgement of his words. 

“Can I ask?” Nicole began but Doc was already nodding, anticipating her question. “What changed?”

“My mother.” Doc spoke softly, his eyes sparkling with the tears of the recently bereaved. “She has passed, and I have realised what a fool I have been.”

"I'm sorry." Was all the reply Nicole could softly muster.

"It was expected. In truth, I am relieved." Doc turned his hat around in circles in his hand. “Something I am sure you know more than enough about, Nicole.”

Nicole felt her lip wobble ever so slightly. She looked up into his sad eyes and nodded at him, acknowledging the unexpected connection they now had the misfortune to share. She moved towards her cruiser then, now more determined to get to Shorty’s and get that drink.

"I guess I need to welcome you to the club, Doc.” 

"There is a club?"

"Yeah. Jeremy's the president, I'm co-chair. You wanna be the treasurer?" 

"What is this club... for?" 

"It's the 'Dead Mother’s Society'. We meet every fourth Thursday on Zoom.”

Doc cracked a smile at her dark humour. "Well, remind me to cancel craft night from now on."

Nicole smiled, gesturing to the passenger side door of the cruiser. “Get in, Doc. Let’s get that beer.” 

Before Nicole could open her own door, her phone pinged with a notification, causing her heart to leap into her throat. She’d muted every conceivable notification that might be triggered by Bake Off. All except one. Anything from Waverly. 

She slowly brought her phone out from her pants pocket, filled with trepidation. Her heart rate had increased so suddenly she thought for a brief moment that she might actually be sick. 

🤍 _Welcome to Dolls House_ _and_ Ambrose Fish liked  
 **Waverly Earp** @Earpshalott * 3min  
Ya’ll obsessed with #Wynaught when you really should’ve been using #Wayhaught all along.

Underneath the tweet was one of Nicole’s favourite pictures of the couple. Jeremy had taken it after spotting them one evening as they sat talking in the loggia. Nicole had her back to a stone wall, legs either side of a bench seat with Waverly nestled between. She was leaning back into Nicole’s body, tilting her head back against Nicole’s chest. They were the picture of relaxed comfort, arms intertwined and eyes locked as they smiled at each other. 

_We have a ship name. Waverly publicly acknowledged us!_

She must have been standing there staring at her phone for some time as she heard Doc open the cruiser door and half step out to address her. “Nicole? Is everything alright?”

She looked up at him, unable to keep the stupid smile off her face. Then she took one more look at her screen, tapping the heart button before turning it off and securing the phone back in her pocket.

“Yeah, Doc. I think so. Let’s get that drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know a King cake isn’t spiced but there was a whole month where I was writing two chapters side by side and I got the bakes mixed up so horribly that I couldn’t find a way to untangle them from the plot. In the end I just threw my hands in the air with a giant ‘fuck it!’ so everyone just has to live with it along with the ridiculousness of this title.


	6. Islands in the Steam Pudding (by Dolly Varden Cake and Kenny Roghni Naan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is accidental arson, too much Champ, and a joke six chapters in the baking.

**“**

_Tender love is blind  
_ _It requires a dedication  
_ _All this love we feel needs no conversation  
_ _We ride it together, ah ha  
_ _Making love with each other, ah ha  
_ _Islands in the stream  
_ _That is what we are_

**“**

**BANNED BAKES WEEK**

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT.  
** Nicole and Waverly are interviewed together on Waverly’s stone bridge. They’re both wearing a star baker badge; Waverly has Nedely’s original metal one pinned to her apron, whereas Nicole has an ostentatiously coloured badge made of paper and toothpicks, covered in glitter with a ‘Clifford the Big Red Dog’ sticker in the middle of it. 

**WAVERLY  
** (Excited)

Your badge is so cute!

 **NICOLE  
** (Grinning)

This arrived yesterday. Fish’s boys made it for me.

**WAVERLY**

Awwww! It looks adorable on you.

 **NICOLE  
** (Smirking, adopting a teasing tone)

Will I be so adorable when I get to keep mine this week?

**WAVERLY**

Nicole Haught. Is that a challenge?

**NICOLE**

You know it, Waverly Earp.

**WAVERLY**

We aren’t allowed to bet are we? Because I wanna make a bet. I bet you, that I place higher in the Technical this week.

**NICOLE**

You’re on. What do I get when I win?

Waverly turns and whispers something in her ear. Nicole’s face explodes into a hot red, sweaty mess, while the most obvious smirk parks itself across Waverly’s.

**NICOLE**

Isn’t that… uhhhhhhh, _banned_ in three states?

 **WAVERLY  
** (Coyly)

It certainly is.

 **NICOLE  
** (Flustered)

Waverly. You…you can’t say that here.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Innocently)

Why? The Carolina Reaper chilli is so hot, people have died, Nicole. But if I win, you’ll be judging the Annual Purgatory Chilli Cook-off where they’re the main ingredient.

 **NICOLE  
** (Somehow even _more_ flustered)

That’s not...what I thought you said.

 **WAVERLY  
** (smirking)

Really? What did you think I said?

**NICOLE**

Something... _banned in three states!_

(⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) ┌iii┐

**SPRING  
** **Somewhere in rural Canada, 231 miles from Vancouver City  
** **WEDNESDAY**

Nicole had never felt more stupid than she did at this moment.

Standing still, wracked with indecision for what felt like hours but was probably only five minutes, kind of did that to a person. She didn’t even remember making the decision that led her here, or quite understand how she’d managed to get so far. Just that she had needed to go. She needed to see her.

She needed to see Waverly.

Which was how Nicole found herself standing on an unfamiliar porch in front of the world’s most ramshackle house in the middle of bumfuck BC, somehow unable to reach out and just knock on the door to announce her unexpected arrival.

Nicole looked at the cat cage and her duffel bag resting at her feet, then cast her gaze out across the undulating landscape. It was easy to use the view as an excuse not to make a decision. 

It was everything the city was not and Nicole had to admit, the air was lighter, the sounds crisper and the light somehow managed to fill every corner of her vision with a richness of colour that just couldn’t be matched. The land was stunningly beautiful, with fields as far as the eye could see giving way to rolling hills, and in the distance, a mountain range stubbornly grasping at the last snow drifts of the season in a freezing, somewhat non-consensual hug.

It didn’t change the fact that her arrival was somewhat non-consensual also.

“What now CJ?” She asked rhetorically as she stared out to the horizon. The damned cat didn’t understand the nuances of human communication, so she replied. Loudly. Indignant at being trapped in a carry-cage for hours on end.

**_I agree with the giant ginger monster._ **

_Mom, she’s not a giant. She’s just… not a kitten anymore._

**_So why didn’t you leave her with Lonnie?_ **

_Because it was LONNIE!_

**_Fair enough. Now explain why we’re here without so much as a ‘heyo’?_ **

_That… is an unfair question._

**_WHY!?_ **

_Because you KNOW that I don’t know!_

**_I KNOW that you don’t know so neither do I know what we both know?_ **

_Look. There are ‘known’ knowns and there are… ‘unknown’ knowns…_

**_And then there’s this! Fuck, ‘Cole. I get she melts your Haagen Daas but..._ **

“I should call her.” Nicole spoke aloud, ostensibly to the cat but it answered the memory of her Mom anyway. “I should just call and confess my idiocy… You think?” 

This time the question wasn’t rhetorical but both her mom and CJ seemed to have come to the mutual conclusion to shut up, refusing to grace Nicole with anything that might be construed as constructive help.

“You useless... ginger… mess” Nicole sighed as her frustration with herself manifested as misdirected insults. 

She looked at the black brace wrapped tightly around her left arm. Designed for shoulder injuries, it completely immobilized the limb and made even the simplest of tasks almost impossible. Including taking her medication. 

Feeling utterly ridiculous, she fumbled around in her pocket, managing to pop out the pills she was due to take for the pain before taking out her phone and dialling Waverly’s number like she should have done hours ago.

It took many more rings than it normally would but finally, a familiar, bubbly and life affirming voice connected through the line.

_“Nicole! I was just thinking about you and just like that, you’re calling me!?_

“Heeeey baby!” Nicole’s overly cheery disposition sounded odd even to her own ears, so she wasn’t surprised to hear Waverly immediately call her out on her awkward tone. 

_“Okay, what’s wrong Nicole_.”

“Um, why would anything be wrong. Can’t a woman call the beautiful girl she lo… uh, she likes, just because she was thinking about her?” The realisation she should have spent a little time thinking about what she was actually going to say hit Nicole like the first waft of hot air from a hastily opened oven door and Nicole’s capacity to feel even more stupid rose faster than well proven bread dough. 

_“Nicole…”_ Waverly’s voice was pitched low, elongating her name in a way that said, ‘if you don’t tell me what’s wrong right now you’re going to be in so much trouble’.

“Okay, well, here’s the thing…” Calamity Jane gave a loud yowl, interrupting her confession briefly.

 _“CJ! Tell my girlfriend to get to the point!”_ Waverly yelled down the phone.

_Girlfriend…_

_(Uhhhhhhh) is (girlfriend)?_

“Wait. You wanna be my… Waves?”

 _“Oh my god.”_ Waverly frustration was evident. _“Yes. I think it’s pretty clear I want you to be my girlfriend. Now, tell me what the hell is going on!”_

All Nicole could do was grin in happy acceptance.

_“Nicole? Are you still there?”_

“Yeah. I’m here, (girlfriend).”

Waverly’s pointed silence, waiting for her to speak again tampered down Nicole’s giddiness. 

Suddenly, she could feel every discomfort on her body a hundred times more potently. Her collar itched at the back of her neck, the brace suddenly felt too tight, as did her shirt french tucked into her jeans. The same jeans that had taken her nearly half an hour to one-handedly drag on that morning and which she had regretted the first time she stopped at a restroom on her journey.

“Um, okay. I’m just going to say it.”

 _“Do you not_ **_want_ ** _to be my girlfriend? Are you breaking up with me?”_

“What?! No! NO WAY! I mean YES! Shit. Oh, Waverly. I want to be your girlfriend! I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more, I just...” 

_“Well, what is it Nicole? You’re really starting to scare me..”_

“I’m sorry. I just. I had a little accident at work and…”

 _“WHAT!? ARE YOU OKAY?! WHAT HAPPENED!? OH MY GOD!”_ Nicole heard a loud crash and a double barrelled ‘Shit-tickets!’ shouted into the silence from inside the house and repeated milliseconds later through the speaker on her phone.

“Waverly. I’m fine. Honestly. I just got a little bit stabbed and…”

_“YOU GOT ‘A LITTLE BIT’ STABBED! HOW THE SHIZNITS DOES A PERSON GET ‘A LITTLE BIT’ STABBED!_

“It’s not important, Waves. I’m fine. Nothing vital was skewered…”

_“I’ll be the judge of that. I’m coming to see you…”_

“No, no, no, no, you don’t need to do that…”

_“I do. If your arm’s hurt you can’t…do stuff and…I can help. Around the house. I can do you…uhhh, do your laundry…or something?”_

“No, Waverly. You don’t need to…”

_“I want to.”_

“I know, but...”

_“No buts. Top-shelf or otherwise”_

Waverly promptly hung up.

“Well...shit. What do I do now CJ?” Nicole asked as the cat stared impassively from her carry-cage.

Nicole had no time to ponder this further. She could clearly hear Waverly stomping through the house gathering a few items and in seconds, her loud footfalls carried with purpose and determination towards the front door.

With a surge of panicked adrenaline, Nicole picked up the cat cage with her good arm, holding it in front of her as a shield when the door suddenly opened. 

Waverly stopped, frozen in place in her own doorway. From her hidden vantage point behind CJs fluffy cat-butt, Nicole watched Waverly’s face cycle through a complex series of largely unreadable emotions. 

She gently lowered the cat cage to the ground, Nicole felt her chest constrict. Her self-loathing brought on by her own idiocy gave way to a heavy feeling of dread.

_Waverly doesn’t want me here. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have assumed I could just..._

“What happened?” Waverly’s voice cut through Nicole’s inner chatter. It sounded tremulous, like she didn’t really want to hear the answer but polite conversation dictated the question had to be asked. As she spoke, Waverly dropped her hastily packed bag. Her hand rose, a finger lightly tracing the thick stitching woven through the foam padding between the hard plastic pieces of the brace.

Nicole sighed as she considered her answer.

The truth was, getting stabbed really, really hurt. Like, _Really Hurt_. With capital letters and italics for emphasis and everything. The whole incident happened so quickly and was over in seconds. Nicole was lucky her face hadn't ended up resembling a charcuterie board after interrupting a robbery. The panicked teenager had lashed out with a kitchen knife and while Nicole had been able to sway out of the way, the knife had skidded off her vest and sunk into the flesh of her upper arm, raised to protect her head. She’d like to say there was a dramatic slide to the ground as her partner called for armed backup and gave chase to her assailant, but in reality she’d just leaned on their patrol car in a massive amount of pain, waiting for the ambulance to arrive

“My vest did it’s job. It stopped the knife...” Nicole offered with a shrug, like the story was too mundane to waste breath on.

“By deflecting it into your arm.”

“Details, details…” 

“No! Not, fucking ‘details’ Nicole! You’re hurt! You could’ve…and I only just… Fuck!”

As angry tears formed in her eyes, Waverly surged forward, hiding them in Nicole’s shirt.

“Waves? I’m okay. I promise. I promise.” They held each other tightly, quietly, for several long moments before Nicole tried to explain herself. “I didn’t want to call and worry you. I figured you might march on Vancouver and, um, I can go. I was going to get a room in town, but I wanted to see you and…”

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Waverly interrupted with a whisper, leaning backwards so Nicole saw the sincerity in her eyes as she spoke. “I mean, I did invite you.” 

“You did? I mean, you are?” Nicole felt a little of the heaviness in her chest lift. She smiled as Waverly tucked herself further into her body, radiating peace and reassurance that Nicole was exactly where she should be.

“Yes, Nicole. I’m always happy to see you.” Waverly used the palm of her hand on Nicole’s cheek to guide her down into a chaste kiss, tentative and cautious but everything Nicole needed to feel. She smiled into it, causing an answering smile to break across Waverly’s face.

Leaning back to take in the view, Nicole noted Waverly was dressed for decorating. Old Chucks, baggy three-quarter length sweats cinched under the knee and a grey top covered in paint splashes. A pair of battered headphones hung loosely around her neck, the cord snaking its way over her shoulders before disappearing into a back pants pocket. 

She was radiant and Nicole couldn’t keep the grin from forming over her face as she looked her up and down, slowly, so Waverly could be under no illusion that Nicole was definitely checking her out.

“Alright, Casanovacaine. Come inside.” Waverly coaxed, pulling her through the front door before returning for CJ. “You’ll be staying right here where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I hope you’ll be keeping more than an eye on me, Waverly Earp.” 

“While you’re in that state?” Waverly sounded incredulous. “I don’t think we’ll be getting off until you get that off.” Waverly joked nervously as she gestured towards the brace while leading them into the kitchen. The room was bathed in the late afternoon sun making Waverly look like she was radiating unearthly light. Somehow untouchable and like home all rolled into one fantastical image. Nicole was irrepressibly drawn.

“I don’t know Waves…” Nicole leaned down, nuzzling her nose and lips against her earlobe as she whispered “I can be very, very inventive…” She let her tongue escape her mouth to lightly caress Waverly’s lobe, drinking in the sound she made in response. She captured the whole thing between her lips next, allowing her teeth to gently nibble the soft flesh, teasing Waverly’s imagination as to what else she might be able to achieve with just her mouth.

“I’m on medical leave for a good few weeks. I don’t have to work again until after Bake Off is finished filming actually, so I’ve got so much more time to practice…”

“Yeah?” Waverly whispered provocatively, pushing Nicole back against the kitchen table before leaning up to claim her lips again. “Practice makes…”

“What the fuck is this bullshit happening on my kitchen table?”

“Perfect.” Nicole sighed. It felt like an interrupting Wynonna Earp was the new mortal instrument of the Universe’s vendetta against Haught’s.

“Hey! It’s _our_ kitchen, Wynonna. When the hell did you get back?”

“Just now. I walked back from the Jones’.” She reached into her backpack and took out three bottles of what looked like home-made hooch. “I bartered some goat meat for rum for the pies, but you know, I’ll repeat myself if you really want me too. Why is Haught-lips Houlihan in _our_ kitchen and on _my_ sister.”

Waverly waved her hand around indicating towards her brace. “Nicole got hurt. She’ll be staying with us this week so I can help her get ready for filming and help with…other things...she needs.” Nicole noticed the way Waverly’s eyes drifted over her body and lingered at her belt buckle.

“Yeah, right.” Wynonna’s voice trailed away as she also looked Nicole up and down, but in an entirely different way.

“Get shot?”

“No.”

“Oh. Slipped on the bath tiles?”

“No! I got stabbed, Wynonna.”

“Still doesn’t explain you turning up unannounced at my home.”

“ _Our_ home.” Waverly interjected.

“Fine, _our_ home. Did ya’ just expect to instantly be able to defile my baby sister in the kitchen?”

“Wynonna!”

“Uh, pretty much, yeah.” Nicole goaded, enjoying the mock outrage that played across Wynonna’s face before leaning in to Waverly to kiss her again.

“Dude! Gross! Take that upstairs and out of my retinas.”

“Okay!” Waverly enthusiastically agreed, grabbing Nicole’s good arm and leading her rapidly towards the stairs. “Look after Calamity for us, okay Wy?”

“What!? What the fuck is this monstrosity?” Nicole could hear Wynonna shout after them. “A feral, ginger capybara?”

“It’s a cat Wynonna. Her name is Calamity Jane.” Nicole called back.

“Nope. Doesn’t track. This behemoth's name is Ludo. I’m changing it.”

Nicole turned back and marched down the stairs. “How dare you. CJ doesn’t smell bad!”

“You got that reference? Okay, I’m back to liking you again.” Wynonna leaned over the cage dramatically and stretched out for a high five, but she held back the hand for a moment, waiting for an answer to an important question. “Wait. You remind me of the babe...”

“What babe?” Nicole answered quickly.

“The babe with the power.”

Nicole could feel Waverly rolling her eyes behind her.

“What power?”

“The power of voodoo...”

“That’s enough! Good god, I didn’t know you were a Labyrinth fan. The two of you are going to be insufferable!” Nicole grinned as Wynonna’s hand descended quickly, finishing the high-five with a satisfying smack.

“Alright. You can stay, but this thing’s name will be ‘road-kill’ if I find her in my room later.”

“Wynonna. Please stop playing with _my_ girlfriend.”

Nicole grinned involuntarily. She was never going to get tired of hearing Waverly Earp call her her girlfriend.

“Girlfriend?” Wynonna screwed up her face.

“Yeah. Sorta. Kinda.” Waverly replied.

“Kinda? Waves?” Nicole was confused.

“No, I just mean… Yes, Wy. We’re using that word, and I’m not asking if that’s alright with you because tough biscuits if it’s not.”

“Meeeerooowwww!”

“Yeah, you tell her Calamity.” Nicole whispered as she bent to scratch under her chin, unsure what kind of sisterly stand-off she’s suddenly found herself in the middle of. The cat backed away with a small hiss.

“Thank fuck for small miracles. It took you bloody long enough. Does this mean you’ll stop spending every waking moment telling me about ‘Nicole did this’ and ‘Nicole did that’ because I think my ears are actually allergic to her name.”

“Absolutely not.” Was Waverly’s instantaneous reply. She moved quickly to re-grab Nicole's good arm and began to lead her back up the stairs. As she followed she chanced a quick look back at Calamity and saw Wynonna lower herself to the ground to make eye contact. The last thing she saw was the damned cat giving her a scratchless nose-boop.

“What a bitch!” Nicole whispered, but apparently not as under her breath as she thought.

“Excuse me!?”

“My cat likes Wynonna more than me!”

“Well, I like you more than Wynonna does. Does that make up for it?” Waverly looked up at Nicole as she clutched at the front of her blue button-up, leaning carefully into Nicole now they had made it into the privacy of the bedroom.

“Oh, Waverly. You liking me is kinda my everything.” Nicole replied honestly, utterly unconcerned if the words sounded sappy because she felt it in her very bones. She knew the truth of it had bled into her eyes because she saw it reflected back at her in Waverly’s own.

Her good hand had been brushing loose strands of Waverly’s otherwise tightly bound hair away from her forehead, but now she put it to better use. Allowing her fingertips to brush along the side of her face as they descended. Nicole’s hand cupped under Waverly’s ear, behind her head as she leaned in to capture her lips, giddy that this was a thing they could now share together.

“My everything…” she repeated in a whisper before their lips connected. Softly at first but it wasn’t long before Waverly deepened it, a soft cry escaping her as she did so.

Nicole dropped her hand to Waverly’s waist, willing their bodies closer despite the encumbrance of her arm brace. Waverly’s hands immediately shot up and into Nicole’s hair, fingers curling and caressing the wavy red strands. They never stopped carding through, winding sections on and off her fingers, gently tugging as she went and it was sending Nicole absolutely wild.

Before she knew it she had backed Waverly up against her dresser, bumping it harshly against the wall, ornaments wobbling precariously for a moment. The hand kneading at the minimal flesh of Waverly’s side slipped in unison with Nicole’s lips.

The hand now caressed Waverly’s thigh, lifting it slightly, suggesting there was nothing Nicole wanted more than to slot more permanently between her legs, while her lips journeyed across her jaw, into the valley of Waverly’s neck. Her teeth teased a line south to Waverly’s collarbone, a litany of soft cries of her name tumbled from Waverly’s panting mouth.

“Nicole... _Nicole…”_

“Waverly? Is this okay?”

“Hmmm… Yes, I really, _really_ don’t want you to stop, but I think you just stood in the paint tray…”

“I… what?” Nicole’s brain struggled to catch up and comprehend the words she’d just heard. It was far too occupied with the sensation of Waverly’s body pressed tightly to hers, the taste of her skin on her lips, the sensation of those clever, dextrous fingers still absentmindedly pulling through her hair. 

Finally though, she felt it. A wet, cold feeling seeping through the toe of her canvas shoe. She peeked down between their bodies as Waverly started giggling in reaction to the expression on her face.

She was indeed standing in a paint tray so Waverly’s outfit now made entirely more sense. Looking up and around the room, Nicole finally noticed the new paint smell and drop cloths covering half the floor. She had been completely focussed on Waverly, and had missed that half the walls in the room had been painted over so the cracks and rips were hidden but the slightly embossed texture of the old-fashioned wallpaper still showed through.

“You’re redecorating.”

“Uh huh. You know it’s a miracle you haven’t made detective yet, Constable Haught.” Waverly’s eyes danced playfully as she teased.

“Ha ha.” Nicole frowned good-naturedly before sighing in resignation. “So we should…” She paused as she tried lifting her foot a little, a loud squelch noise echoing through the room.

“Yeah, slow down a little and…”

“Fix this first, huh?”

“Yeah…”

Nicole took a reluctant step back from Waverly and watched as she slowly and deliberately sank to the floor in front of her. Her knowing eyes sparkled with mischief as they locked with Nicole’s own. Waverly only looked away, chuckling, when Nicole couldn’t stop a thick swallow and ragged exhale as her mind ran away with her.

“Hold on to me.” Waverly almost whispered as she began to loosen the laces on the shoe.

_Oh, you know I will Waverly. Besides, two can play at this game._

Utterly unconcerned with doing anything to help Waverly as she knelt on the floor, Nicole turned all her focus to her good hand returning the favour. Her fingers slipped into Waverly’s hair, massaging the back of her head. Thrilled by the goosebumps that pebbled Waverly’s skin, Nicole let her fingers slowly loosen the tight bun holding her hair up.

“Nicole…” Waverly breathed her name and it sounded like a promise.

“Time to lift.”

“Huh?”

“Your foot. Out of the shoe. Hold on and lift up.”

“Oh, right.” Nicole finally obliged, Waverly removing the paint soaked sock at the same time, using the top end to wipe paint from her foot.

“Waverly! That tickles! Jesus!”

“Ah, good to know.” Waverly stood with that mischievous twinkle back in her eyes.

“So…” Nicole’s reply was so intelligent she made a mental note to apply to Mensa immediately.

“So.” Waverly’s hands, now wiped clean of stray paint streaks, began a slow journey back to Nicole’s hair, her intent clear as day and yet Nicole couldn’t help with the intelligent conversation starters.

“You’re redecorating.”

“Yes. We established that.” Waverly seemed to be holding back a giggle.

“Looking for a fresh start?” 

There it was again. That little ripple behind Waverly’s eyes that Nicole had seen a few times now. It was a flash of alarm, shock and fear so potent that it just had to be stamped down and put away. Waverly seemed to be very good at stomping, as the rippling waves went away just as quickly as they came.

“Something like that, yeah.” Waverly replied plainly. “Wynonna and I have only been back here around six months or so.”

“Back here?”

“Yes. This is our family home, but we haven’t lived here since we were children. This was my sister's room. Now I’m reclaiming it for myself.”

“She doesn’t mind?” Nicole thought back to Wynonna, wondering where there was room for another bedroom. From the outside it didn’t even look like there was room for a second floor.

“Nope. Trust me, that is not an issue.”

Waverly’s fingers had found their natural home in Nicole’s hair again and she immediately forgot about the architecture of the house, the smell of the paint and the slightly lopsided feeling she had from standing in Waverly’s Earp’s bedroom in just one shoe.

“Speaking of reclaiming…” Waverly’s soft voice continued “...I think I might need to borrow these for a while.”

“Wha..?” Before Nicole could continue the question, Waverly’s lips were softly pressed to hers once again. Nicole’s good arm slipped around Waverly’s waist as they stole short sharp kisses from each other while swaying inexorably towards the bed pulled into the middle of the room, away from the recently painted wall.

“Careful, careful…” Waverly counselled as Nicole’s knees hit the bed. “I don’t want to hurt your arm… is this… is this okay?”

“Oh Waverly, this is more than okay. C’mere…” Nicole lay down, pulling Waverly to sit astride her so she was supporting her own weight on her knees. 

“You sure?”

“Waverly. I am lying in your bed and you’re straddling my waist with a look in your eye that tells me how much you want to kiss me, I… I don’t think I’ve ever been more ‘okay’ in my life, so please. Lean down here and…”

Then, just like that, Waverly was there. 

Nicole could feel the passion in the way Waverly’s mouth hit her, the way her tongue danced out in search of her own. The almost growl Nicole emitted as that beautiful mouth tracked its way to her throat should’ve embarrassed her but it just didn’t.

Nicole felt warm, safe and desired. Every touch was setting her skin on fire and yet her brain grew foggier and foggier.

Time drew out on a thread, seemingly pausing forever on the feeling of Waverly’s hand tugging gently at her hair and her voice, quietly enquiring, “ _Nicole..?”_

As her medication finally took hold, Nicole wasn’t even aware that she had drifted off to sleep.

(＿ ＿*) Z z z

Nicole woke several hours later with a tremendous sense of guilt that took a good five minutes of concentrated thought to pick through why she knew she deserved it.

She blinked her eyes open as her senses picked up the oddness all around her. The bed was unfamiliar and she was wrapped in half a duvet. The room held a chemical smell. Was it… paint?

Paint.

Foot in paint…

_WAVERLY!_

“Oh my god.” Nicole managed to groan out, dramatically draping her arm over her eyes in shame.

“Hey, sleepy head.” An amused voice softly called from across the room. 

“Waverly. I’m so sorry. Did I really fall asleep in the middle of…” Nicole could feel sunbursts of shame blossoming all over her face.

“Nicole, I found the medication you’re on and honestly, I’m surprised I got to enjoy you for as long as I did. It’s enough to tranquilise a wild goat.” 

Nicole chanced a sneak peek from under her arm as she felt the bed dip with Waverly’s weight. She was just in time to see her girlfriends wry smile and her hand reach up to softly touch an exposed part of her face.

“Look at me? Please, Nicole?”

Nicole wasn’t one to refuse a direct request, so she moved her arm away. She must have been making a sad face as Waverly grabbed her chin and squished her lips together. 

“Awww, pouty. Don’t worry. I’m gonna make sure you don’t miss out, okay?”

Nicole’s grin pushed Waverly’s hand away as it stretched from the small bed all the way back to Vancouver Island.

“I’m so glad you’re here Nicole, I really…” Waverly let the sentence go unfinished for a moment, her eyes searching Nicole’s own. “I’m sorry, I have to go soon. I’m working tonight.” Waverly confessed. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Hey, it’s okay Waverly.” Nicole responded to the look of guilt that washed over Waverly’s face. “I did show up here unannounced. I can take care of myself tonight.”

“You better be right back here when I get in.” Waverly finished her sentence with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, I will be.” Nicole tried to lean up and capture Waverly’s lips but all she caught was air.

“Good. Now, I have to get ready so you should head downstairs. If you’re quiet you might catch Wynonna asleep on the couch with Calamity.”

“What? That traitorous…” Nicole flipped the duvet away with her good arm and struggled to a sitting position.

“Wynonna or Calamity?”

“Yes” Nicole replied with conviction.

Waverly merely laughed in response as she backed away towards the bathroom and Nicole knew it was her favourite sound in all the world.

“See you soon…”

“Yeah, see you soon.” Nicole responded with a lopsided grin, and then Waverly was gone.

Sighing in contentment Nicole rose and tried to sneak down the stairs but every third step seemed to set off a ninja alarm floorboard creak so she gave up halfway down.

She needn’t have bothered. Wynonna and Calamity both slept through the noise.

Deciding to have a little fun as she heard the shower turn on in the distance, Nicole picked up a tasseled cushion and dangled it over Wynonna’s face, tickling her nose. When it got an underwhelming response she batted it at Calamity hoping to entice a clawed reaction.

She got it when Calamity reached out a paw, claw catching immediately in the cushion, pulling it out of Nicole’s slackened grip. The damned cat hadn’t even opened her eyes.

“Fine. Have fun with you new Mommy CJ.” Miffed, Nicole retreated to the kitchen. 

She scanned the cupboards for a glass to fill with water. A choice she might have had the afterthought to regret once it fell into the sink, shattering loudly into the near silence of the kitchen. Nicole’s attention was far away, her gaze cast out through the open window. She never even heard the smash. 

“HOLY SHIT!”

“What!? I’m up! Where’s the fire?!” Nicole’s brain distantly registered the indignant ‘Mreowww’ from Calamity and the scrabble of boots on the hardwood floor as Wynonna reached her side in seconds.

Nicole couldn’t respond. 

She was utterly mesmerised by the sight of an entire field of goats on the Earp homestead property.

**_Nicole…this place..._ **

_Mom…_

**_IT’S A MOTHERFUCKING GOAT FARM NICOLE!_ **

_Waverly lives on a goat farm..._

The memory of her Mom was as shocked as she was but it was the sheer joy she felt that had Nicole stunned into inaction. This was the one thing on her Mom’s bucket list she felt like she probably would never achieve and yet, somehow, following Waverly Earp had led her here, to this moment. 

Her Mom may no longer be with her, but looking out the Earp’s kitchen window and seeing a herd of goats just standing there in a field made her feel happier and more connected to her Mom than ever.

Sometimes, the Universe sorta, kinda, wasn’t such a shit after all.

“Holy shit, Wynonna! You have goats!”

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “Seriously Haught? I hope you’re not allergic or phobic or anything because everyone here has goats. The nasty fuckers are endemic to the area. They don’t call it the Goat River Triangle for nothing.”

**_IT’S A BETTER THAN A MOTHERFUCKING GOAT FARM! IT’S A GOAT SAFARI!_ **

_Yes! They’re wild and free and I don’t have to become a shepherd to finish your stupid list!_

**_My list is NOT stupid._ **

**_P.S. I love this place._ **

_P.P.S. So do I, mom._

Nicole watched as Wynonna leaned out the back door, shouting at the assembled tribe. “FUCK OFF, REVENANTS!”

Wynonna’s loud voice spooked a few of the animals but most of them merely looked up and stared back at the house, brown eyes gleaming red in the light of the setting sun.

“These shitstains just keep coming back! I bet Waverly feeds them or some shit. Still, they never actually come up past the fence so I guess I can’t complain. What’s with that face Haught?”

Wynonna looked back as Nicole remained standing stunned at the kitchen sink. “You look constipated...and, ew. Tell me you’re right handed because I am not helping you wipe your ass.”

“Sorry, I was just in my head with my mom.” Nicole admitted, reaching up to tap her head with a finger. “She always wanted to live on a goat farm so she just totally fell in love with this place.”

Wynonna screwed up her face like she was trying to decide if she needed to ensure they had ten paces between them at all times for safety reasons. “Your dead mom just fell in love with the goats of Purgatory?”

“Yeah.” Nicole replied plainly, like there was nothing wrong with making such a statement.

Then, she laughed. It bubbled up out of her, unrestrained and untempered. She couldn’t stop it as every time she looked at the goats the urge to laugh doubled down on itself until she was one-handedly gripping the bench almost as hard as she had gripped the ferry railing when she watched her mom’s pineapple urn tumble into the sea.

“Okay, are you on Oxy or something?” Wynonna picked up one of the bottles Waverly must’ve placed on the counter. She peered at it, shaking the contents slightly. “...or should I go make a couple of discrete phone calls to some colleagues of mine.”

Nicole forced herself to look over to Wynonna and began to sober as she noticed the concerned look on her face and the phone held lightly in one hand.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, it’s just… oh god, give me a minute. I’ll explain…” Nicole shook out the last few tears of laughter. “Okay. I’m good now. I’m good.”

Nicole sighed, her eyes closed, pulling her composure together so she could explain but the moment she cracked her eyes open she saw the goats and she lost it again.

“Okay, I’m gonna make the call…”

“No! Wynonna, I’m fine” Nicole managed to choke out.

“You’re not. You’re clearly heading for breakdown city without a bus pass...”

“No, don’t…” Nicole lunged towards Wynonna intending to confiscate the phone but Wynonna was faster than she expected in her pregnant state. Wynonna twirled away from her, transferring the phone into her other hand cockily, teasing Nicole with her dual dexterity.

“Not so Haught with one arm tied behind your back, huh? She raised the phone to her head.

“Wynonna…” Nicole would never be able to explain quite why her brain calculated a jump as the correct course of action to counter Wynonna, but it did. 

So she jumped.

Her tall frame enveloped Wynonna from behind. She held on with her knees while her good arm snaked around Wynonna’s neck, hand batting at the phone.

“Get off me, Ludo’s mom!”

“Drop your weapon Earp, and I’ll see that you’re treated fairly!”

“That’s Sir Didimous’ line, you idiot!”

“What the hell is going on in here!”

The pair looked up to the entrance of the kitchen to see Waverly standing in the doorway dressed in the skimpiest uniform Nicole had ever laid eyes on. 

The red and blue crop top barely had room for the bar logo emblazoned across the chest and the cut off jeans rode high enough that one pull of a stray thread would turn the item from shorts into a skirt.

“Uhhhhhhh…” Nicole managed unintelligibly as she slipped off Wynonna’s back.

“YOU, are pregnant, and YOU are injured. What the SHIZNITS do you think you’re both doing!”

“Sorry Waverly…” Nicole had immediately turned into a contrite mess of puppy eyes and regret which seemed to have the desired effect on Waverly as her whole body language towards her changed in the face of it.

“Yeah, sorry Waverly.” Wynonna parroted before whisper-shouting back to Nicole. “ _Thanks for making_ **_me_ ** _look like the asshole!_ ”

“Living room. Both of you. Now.” Waverly abruptly turned on her heel and marched away. Nicole and Wynonna followed meekly, each taking pot-shot slaps at each other as they walked.

“Sit down.” Waverly commanded. They sat in unison on the living room couch.

“I have to go to work and the two of you will behave yourselves! You…” she pointed accusingly at Wynonna. “...will not get Nicole drunk, and you…” the finger moved accusingly to Nicole. “...will eat, take your meds and get an early night. You need to rest. Got it?”

“Yes Waverly.” The pair nodded in unison before catching each other's eyes, testing their response for genuineness.

“I have to go, but, Nicole? How’re you feeling?”

“Good. I think? I feel…strong.”

“Oooookay then. Maybe wait a little while longer before your next meds.” Waverly smiled at Nicole’s answering dopey grin. 

“God, are you two going to be like this all week?” Wynonna asked petulantly.

“Yes.” they replied in unison, without breaking eye contact.

“I gotta go, Nic. I’m sorry.” A few short, peppered kisses later, Waverly finally made it out the door. 

Nicole sighed before turning back to Wynonna, shrugging her shoulders in acknowledgement of her inability to stop her happiness from flooding her features, eliciting an exaggerated gagging noise from the other side of the couch.

“Ughh, that girl owns your ass Haught-pants.”

“Says the woman who sat on command.” Nicole replied with incredulity.

“So did you!”

“Yeah, but…I have an excuse.”

“Ewww, I do not want to know about your sex life Haught.”

“No! I just mean…”

“You’re whipped?”

“Yes. I am. I totally am, and I don’t even care. She’s…”

“Waverly.” Wynonna spoke as if the name were synonymous with ‘special’. Nicole whole-heartedly agreed.

“Yeah. She’s Waverly.”

“So.”

“Yup.”

Somewhere in the impossible house of the Earps, a hidden Grandfather clock ticked away, scratching out each painful second like talons marking time on ripped and faded wallpaper. Nicole itched under her bandages, making her squirm in her seat. She looked around the sparsely decorated room and found nothing to use as a conversation starter. There wasn’t even a stained curtain or embarrassing DVD collection to make fun of.

Suddenly, the loss of Waverly to her bar shift felt like a worse punishment than actually being stabbed. 

“How long is Waverly out…”

“Two am.”

“Right, and it’s…”

“Seven pm, Haught.”

“We can’t drink.”

“Nope.”

“So…”

“So.”

“We could…”

“Nope.”

“Or…”

“Niet.”

“Labyrinth rewatch?”

“Fuck yes!”

(x(x_(x_x(O_o)x_x)_x)x)

“It’s like, when she says ‘you have no power over me’, she’s saying it to ALL MEN, right, even the only man who has ever made me think twice about my sexuality…”

“Yeah, yeah, like Bowie? WHO THE FUCK WOULDN’T!?”

“EXACTLY. That hair, the swagger and the whole _attitude…”_

“The bulge! I mean, look at it Nicole. Look. At. It.”

“Yeah, the jodhpur’s area is not really…”

“Nicole! IT’S ICONIC! You know, I immortalized it in cake once.”

“You did NOT give Waverly a Bowie Bulge Birthday cake!?”

“I did! You wanna see?”

“I… Yeah, actually. Show me the package!” 

“OKAY!” Wynonna practically leapt from the couch in her enthusiasm.

Nicole grinned in response. The evening had progressed so much better than she had imagined. Wynonna had found the DVD in her room after a twenty minute search resulted in half her wardrobe thrown unceremoniously in the hallway, but it had given Nicole enough time to re-heat some Chinese take-out she found in the fridge and take her meds ‘with food’ as it turned out was the proper pharmacists recommendation.

Wynonna was sorta, kinda, excellent company when they had a shared interest to talk about. Nicole was a little concerned about what the Bowie Bulge cake was going to look like though. She turned to look over the back of the couch, but couldn’t see through to the kitchen.

“I’ve got photos in here somewhere Haught. Hang tight. I think it must be in…”

The silence that followed instead of the rest of the sentence did not concern Nicole. 

She waited, ears straining in the quiet for the final words but they didn’t come. All she heard was the soft shuffle of Wynonna’s slippers, the noise of a drawer of cutlery being opened and then the distinct rough ‘click’ of a lighter being flicked on.

The sound of an aerosol can being sprayed and the words ‘EAT SHIT AND DIE MOTHERFUCKER’ were, however, completely unexpected.

Nicole leapt over the back of the couch, finding a seam of energy and strength she didn’t even know she had.

Entering the room, all she could see was flame.

The whoosh as a fire caught hold of the old wooden kitchen cupboards was all encompassing. The heat grew as did the size of the fire, with licks of flame tickling the roof already. 

Nicole knew exactly what to do. 

She had only been at the Homestead for a handful of hours, and most of them had been asleep in Waverly’s cosy warm bed, but the first thing she had seen when Waverly had led her there on her arrival was the wall with no less than three small home fire extinguishers hanging on it. 

Before even 10 seconds had passed from her entrance to the room, Nicole had pulled the safety pin on the nearest extinguisher with her teeth, and one-handedly sprayed half a canister over the fire, smothering it instantly with suppressant foam.

As the cloud settled, and the noise faded, the smell of charred wood invaded Nicole’s nostrils and Wynonna’s wide-eyed stare finally came into view. Her face loomed above Nicole, attached as it was to her body perched precariously on the kitchen table.

“There was a spider.” 

Wynonna pointed, as if through all the black soot Nicole would be able to see eight-legged evidence that would justify her actions.

“I sprayed it, then it caught fire and then ran to the cupboards…”

“Which then self immolated?” Nicole asked incredulously.

“Um, I may have spilt some of the rum earlier, and…”

“WHAT?!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know the hairy fucker was the ‘Captain Marvel’ of the Spiderverse? Fucking thing lit up like...”

“Like it was on fire? Wow, how surprising!”

Nicole looked at the pulled out drawer, aghast at the state of the cupboards which were covered, floor to ceiling in foam quickly turning into grey/black goo as it mixed with the soot.

“Well and least it’s all hardwood. You should be able to…”

Nicole’s sentence finished in a sceam.

The drawer Wynonna found the spider in, dropped suddenly to the floor. From the gaping hole in the cabinetry, an explosion of spiderlings burst forth. Some fell uselessly into the foam but many, many more made it to the other cabinets. 

Nicole was suddenly no longer on the floor. Between the scream leaving her lips and Wynonna’s battle cry piercing the air, the pair had swapped positions. Wynonna grabbed the canister from her hand and unloaded the remaining foam until there was nothing left but sludge and regret.

All was still.

No more small crawling bodies.

No more foam, expanding to cover twice the area than was covered before.

Silence, and stillness, until a distant goat bleat cracked the tension like a double yoker egg in an all-in-one cake mix.

“Okay, so I’m going to assume we’re adding this to the Santa's wish list of ‘things we’re _never_ going to tell Waverly we did?’”

“Oh, never ever ever.” Wynonna agreed, wide-eyed with fear. “Get your ass out of the way, Haught. I can clean this up before she gets back.”

“Let me help…”

“Fuck no! I don’t need Waverly to yell at me for tiring out her girlfriend. Get your ass to bed. I got this.”

“Are you sure, ‘cos I can…”

“No you can’t, not while you’re wandering around like a useless Rick Allen.” Wynonna pointed at her brace.

“Rick Astley?”

“No. Dude. How old are you?”

“How old are you?”

“Old enough to clean up my own mess to a Def Leppard soundtrack. I got this, Haughtpants. Go to sleep.”

With the word ‘sleep’ now firmly planted in her mind, Nicole felt all semblance of adrenaline leave her body. As much as she felt compelled to help, she knew she would soon be in no state to be of any actual use.

“Well. Should you need me...”

Wynonna smirked, getting the Labyrinth reference immediately. “Yeah, yeah, Hauggle. Fuck off, will ya. So my baby sister only has this to yell at me for” Wynonna pointed at the burn mark up the cupboard doors. “This makes us even by the way.”

“Even?”

“Saving each other from fire. Let’s not make it a habit.”

Nicole laughed as she walked towards the stairs.

“Yeah, that’s not very likely, is it.”

/╲/\╭[☉﹏☉]╮/\╱\ ┌iii┐

**MEL**

Good Morning Bakers. Today, Mary and Paul would like you to take on a classic British urban legend - an illegal Christmas fruity mince pie.

**SUE**

Yes, Oliver Cromwell has a lot more to answer for than the world's worst hairdo, the new model army and the persecution of Catholics in Ireland. He allegedly banned mince pies in 1644 and now we want to see you all over-turn that ban and bake us the tastiest Christmas treats you can imagine

 **MEL  
** (Pointing at Nicole and Jeremy)

Even those of you who already look like you’ve been hung, drawn and quartered. You’ll just have to do your best.

**SUE**

Because Paul and Mary will be looking for perfectly baked pastry, perfectly crimped edges and perfectly balanced textures and flavours for the filling.

**MEL**

Perfectly clear everyone? Excellent, well, On your marks!

**SUE**

Get set!

**MEL**

Bake!

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**BAKERS REST ZONE  
** **Gardner Estate, Nanaimo  
** **SATURDAY**

Nicole slumped into a wicker chair in the Bakers rest zone just outside the tent. It was a safe haven from the intense pressure of the tent, where all the bakers could relax, take in fresh air, a bit of sun and enjoy the calm sounds of nature floating across the grounds of the Gardner Estate. Nicole couldn’t even enjoy those simple pleasures.

Everything hurt. 

The brace chafed her skin angrily, her shoulders ached like she’d been hauling weights across them for weeks and her feet, unused to standing for so long after a week of rest at the Earp Homestead, felt blistered and swollen and she’d only been baking for a couple of hours.

The worst hurt Nicole nursed, was to her ego.

Her mince pies had been an unsurprising disaster. Unable to hold the tins still, or roll her pastry thin enough, the whole bake had been an exercise in thwarted ambition and there was nothing she could do about it. No amount of doubling down, finding the extra 10% or pushing through the pain could help when you only had one functioning arm.

Nicole had spent the entire morning feeling as useless as a marzipan dildo.

She draped her tired, good arm over her face as she slumped further down the chair, blocking the sun from her eyes, a subtle signal to the other bakers to leave her in peace to mope for a while. 

The darkness the movement created was a small comfort. For a moment, Nicole could pretend she wasn’t anywhere near the Bake Off tent. Instead she imagined a star-lit night sky on a warm summer night. The steadily growing spots dancing across her closed eyelids became an epic meteor shower. She imagined Waverly by her side, excitedly explaining everything she knew about celestial phenomena and what myths and legends were attached to them. 

It had only been one night, but one night away from Waverly, not waking up wrapped in her arms, not being able to reach out and hold her hand, or even greet her good morning with a kiss had thrown Nicole far more than she wanted to admit. They had both agreed to keep their relationship under wraps, at least until they’d had a chance to talk to Robin and find out if Champ’s threat had any merit. 

By god, it was hard. 

All week, Waverly had been her captain, steadying her ship as she struggled with further reactions to her medication and to her restricted movement and ability. 

That was another thing that had surprised Nicole. How violently opposed she was to accepting help, even though she clearly needed it. Also, how easily Waverly steered her away from the rocks, pulling her back after angrily tossing away her practice bakes, becoming overly emotional after one too many narcolepsy jokes from Wynonna, and her shame at her inability to hide her tears of frustration at being unable to share what she considered basic intimacy with her new girlfriend. 

Waverly had a steady hand on the tiller of HMS Haught, but now they were back in the tent, Nicole felt like she was losing a part of herself. It felt _wrong_ to be hiding. It felt _wrong_ to be in the tent when she clearly was no longer good enough to be there. It felt _wrong_ to be holding everyone else back. 

Everything just felt _wrong_.

Nicole tightened her arm across her face, hoping her grimace hadn’t been noticed by the others. She focussed instead on the meteor shower in her eyes, losing herself in a fantasy where she could just be alone with Waverly. 

Nicole was lulled into a vague sense of lapsed consciousness, a grateful doze that completely shut out the light banter between the other bakers. Right up until the moment Nicole’s ears honed in on a particularly grating comment from Wynonna.

“Look, there she goes again. A native ‘Narc-’Cole-eptic’ spotted in the wild.”

A loud slap preceded a loud cry of “Wynonna!” from Waverly. “You know she hates it when you remind her of that.”

“What babygirl? It was freaking hilarious!” The pitch of Wynonna’s voice changed as she seemed to be addressing the group. Nicole cracked an eye open to confirm the impending disaster through a hooded lid. They’d been closed so long that everything looked cold, icy blue, a filtered monotone of tungsten tinged over-exposure.

“She could not stop falling asleep all week. She even fell asleep on my fence in the middle of me talking to her and she tipped over, ass waving in the air, and landed in a pile of goat shit this thick. No, I swear to God. She looked like she’d come seventh place in a festival mud-wrestling competition. Except it was shit.” 

“Wynonna…” This time, Waverly whispered the name in the silence that had descended among the bakers. The blue gradually faded as Nicole’s eyes readjusted to the sun and she saw that everyone was staring at the Earp sisters. Jeremy and Nedley merely looked interested in the story. Dolls looked tense, his eyes darting between the two women in concern. Mattie’s expression was as irascible as ever and Champ was smirking, which was just his version of ‘resting bitch face’ and as hard to interpret as Mattie’s reaction.

“What, Babygirl? They don’t believe me. Show them the picture on your phone.” It looked like that was the point that the elder Earp finally got what was happening. Through her cracked eyelid, Nicole saw the white’s of Wynonna’s eyes expand exponentially and her mouth form a silent ‘Shit!” directed at her sister.

Closing her eyes again, Nicole sighed before clearing her throat, drawing all the attention to herself. 

“Before you ask, yes I stayed with the Earp’s this week. They heard about the stabbing and offered their help. I can barely put my own pants on right now so, yeah. They helped me by looking after my cat, doing my laundry and helping me practice how to do my bakes with one arm. That’s all there is to this story.”

“Apart from all the falling asleep.” Wynonna interjected, trying to cover her embarrassment.

“Unfortunately, that is also true. Until my Doctor changed my prescription I fell asleep in their barn, at the kitchen table and once while trying to do the dishes while Waverly was at work.”

“See! She’s a ‘Narc-’Cole-eptic! Geddit?!”

“Yeah, right.” Mattie’s disbelieving tone made Nicole’s heart leap into her throat. “You drove 200 miles away from all the medical help in the city for a backwater town in hillbilly country to get help from people you met on a baking show a month ago.” 

Mattie was calling her out. To her face. 

_Shit…_

“Yep.”

“Why the Earps?”

“Why not the Earps?

“Jeremy lives in Vancouver. Why not ask him?”

“Because, and no offence Jeremy…” He raised his hands in acknowledgment, indicating none taken. “...there was no way I wanted him helping me get dressed.”

Matties eyes flashed in triumph.

_Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit._

“But you were happy with one of these two?”

“Wynonna has very gentle hands.” Nicole deadpanned back to her, almost challenging Mattie to keep going with her line of questioning. Unfortunately, Jeremy took a sip of his drink at the same moment and promptly sprayed it out all over Champ.

“That’s disgusting!” Champ spluttered.

“What’s disgusting?” Robin’s cheery, welcome voice ended the mini-standoff between Nicole and Mattie as everyone’s focus turned to Jeremy and Champ.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Champ! I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t touch me, man. Jesus. I’m going to get changed. Now I know why they make us bring two of everything.” He ripped the shirt off his back while mumbling with annoyance.

“Yeah, I know you’re all looking.” The smirk was back on his face as he caught Jeremy staring a little slack jawed, both Wynonna and Mattie peering over their sunglasses at him. Nicole gagged audibly as he wiggled his pecs.

“Eh, I’ve seen better.” Mattie’s verdict definitely carried by the way Champs' expression changed instantly. 

“So have I.” Wynonna had turned back to the group to waggle her eyebrows at Dolls.

“Okay!” Robin loudly clapped his hands. “I just wanted to let you know that after we’ve filmed the Signature judgements, we’re taking an extra long lunch today.” Robin announced before crouching down beside Nicole. “The on-set doctor is worried about you and we want to make sure you can get through the full filming schedule today, okay?”

She whispered back to him, mortified at the attention she was receiving. “No. I don’t want special treatment, Robin. It’s not fair on everyone else.” 

As she spoke, Champs’ loud voice complained to the group, unknowingly echoing her own words. “How come she gets special treatment? Isn’t this supposed to be a competition? If she can’t handle it this week then that’s just the way it goes.”

Nicole’s eyes spoke volumes as she looked at Robin. ‘See?’ they said. Then a voice, beautiful in it’s righteous anger, cut across the spring air.

“It’s not ‘special treatment’ when it’s basic human decency, Champ.”

“Besides, it benefits everyone, you massive tool.” Mattie looked equally unimpressed with the boyman. 

“Yeah, I could do with a power nap. Thanks Haught-sauce!” Wynonna winked and fired a pair of finger guns her way. “Plenty of time for Chump here to power-wank away his free time as well.” 

“Did she just say…”

“Yes, but I’m choosing to unhear it.” Robin smiled in response. “Come on everyone, They’re ready to film. Nicole, we’re doing yours first and then you’re heading back to the Castle to eat and then rest.”

“Robin, I’m really, really uncomfortable with this…” Nicole tried to protest as he helped haul her out of the seat. She looked over at Waverly briefly to see a fire lit behind her eyes.

“Nicole Haught you will do as he says or so help me, I will…” She paused, unsure exactly what to threaten her with in public. “I will…” Her hands flapped uselessly before Jeremy stepped in.

“Nicole?” Jeremy had hung back with Waverly and Nedley. “You helped me so much a couple of weeks ago, and trust me, I know this is like, super duper hard, but, um. Please let us help you this week? Next week will be easier and the week after that easier again. You’ll see.”

It was hard to imagine she was going to make it to next week in the tent, but maybe. Maybe.

Nicole looked into his hopeful, sincere eyes. Then to Waverly, her own brimming with concern, and finally to Nedley whose stern face hid a tired warmth and care that she had rarely seen directed towards herself.

“Consider it an order, Constable. You are ordered to rest until Robin collects you for the Technical. Understand?”

Nicole sighed, dropping her eyes, defeated under the weight of their care. “10-4, Sir” 

“That’s more like it.”

“Thank you. All of you.” She looked up and smiled. The relief she saw in their eyes made her feel a little bit better and a little bit awful all at the same time. It didn’t stop her from accepting Nedley’s shoulder to lean on as they walked back into the tent.

"Come _on_ Haught-shit! You're up! Don't leave the Silverback of pastry hanging!" Wynonna ‘helpfully’ slapped her on the shoulder as she moved to her own station, earning herself a much harder return slap from Waverly. 

The Bulshar crew made a few adjustments and then they were straight into it.

“Oh dear.” Paul’s patronising tone cut through the tent. “There’s no prizes for guessing what went wrong here is there?” 

Nicole looked down at her flour covered brace. “No, not really Paul. I had a lot of trouble shaping the pastry into the moulds. I literally had to tape them down to hold them still but it… Well, you can see. It didn’t work out so well.”

“Yes, they are understandably a bit of a mess, but I can hardly blame you for that.” Mary’s tone was considerably kinder. “What matters to me today is how they taste. You don’t need dexterity to choose complementary flavours so let’s see how you did.”

Nicole cringed. 

“Hmmm. Not bad. I mean, It’s okay, but it doesn’t excite me.” Paul frowned in indifference. “I really was hoping for something ‘wow’ to make up for the presentation. Between you and Jeremy there’s a half decent baker between you. What a pity we can’t team you up so you have a functioning pair of arms?”

Nicole snorted. “Have you seen our height difference Paul? Jeremy, come over here a minute.”

The smaller man grinned, knowing he wasn’t all that much shorter than Nicole. It had been two weeks since his own injury and he was healing well. He still had bandaging around the scars and had limited movement of his fingers, but his arm was now free for holding mixing bowls carefully.

“Reckon we could’ve fixed these if we teamed up?” Nicole asked her friend.

Jeremy stood in front of her and bent his knees so he comically fit under her chin. He grabbed one of the mince pies stuck in the tin with his left hand while Nicole tried to lever it out with a palette knife in her right. They looked like they had stepped straight out of a comedy Improvisation set-up, setting the other bakers into loud guffaws. 

Paul had his arms folded, determined to be unamused by how seriously both Nicole and Jeremy had become in trying to successfully lever out a decent looking pie. 

Five minutes later, they had a success, when the last pie popped free of the tin, jumping briefly in the air with the force. It landed near the edge of the workstation and as Paul tried to catch it for Nicole, he accidentally knocked it off instead. 

Nicole watched as her only decent bake of the lot disappeared. 

“...It rolled off the table!” Jeremy exclaimed.

“...and onto the floor.” Nicole responded with incredulity as the pie rolled away behind the workstation. Jeremy laughed and sang the tune of an old nursery rhyme in response.

“...and then your poor mince pie, rolled out of the door.” 

Delighted, Sue joined in “It rolled in the garden, and under a bush…”

Before Mel finished with a quick witted “It wasn’t a mishap, that mince pie was pushed.”

“Well, I think my work here is done.” Paul dusted off his hands in satisfaction, milked for the cameras. “Thank you Nicole.”

As Paul walked out of shot unable to hide a grin, Mary rested a hand on Nicole’s arm and whispered ‘ _Well done_ ’, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she walked to Champ’s station for the second judgement.

“Mel and Sue sandwich?” Jeremy suggested.

“Splendid idea!” Came the reply from the presenters.

Nicole suddenly found herself being hugged to within an inch of her life by Jeremy in front and Waverly, who miraculously appeared behind her. Mel and Sue quickly joined in, forming the bread in the baker sandwich. “Thanks guys.” She said softly, acutely aware of the nearby camera crew. 

She revelled in the feeling of Waverly’s face nestled between her shoulder blades, planted exactly where she had found it on mornings at the Homestead. She wouldn’t normally find herself in the position of ‘little spoon’ but somehow, Waverly always made it happen.

When they parted, Nicole swore she felt a sharp pinch to her butt. As she whirled to look, both Mel and Waverly had their backs to her. She had no idea who the culprit was. It honestly could’ve been either of them.

She smiled to herself as Robin appeared, gently tapping her arm to signal she was out of shot and free to leave the tent for her early lunch and extended rest.

The relief Nicole felt was palpable. Sure, the bake was crap but she’d managed to sound half-way put together for the cameras and had a good laugh with Jeremy. She began to feel a little more settled, especially as she looked up and caught Waverly’s eye.

It was so natural now, she didn’t even realise she was doing it. Her eyes just gravitated towards her in a room and settled on her like a life saver tossed in the ocean. 

_Oh, captain, my captain…_

Without thinking, Nicole raised her hand and saluted her, in lieu of blowing her a kiss, it was all she could think of to do before turning and leaving the tent to the tune of the judges spitting out Champ’s awful fruity mince pies.

(￣^￣)ゞ

Two hours later, Nicole found herself back in the tent. She was still in some discomfort, the pain medication only going so far, but the rest had done wonders for her spirit. As had the revelation of the technical challenge. They had been asked to make bagels with next to no instructions but Nicole didn’t care a jot. She regularly made them at home and what was even better was that they required minimal kneading and she could shape them accurately with one hand. 

She cast a quick look towards Champ’s station, next door to hers. He had clearly misunderstood the recipe instruction to ‘make a lean dough’, adding butter which virtually ensured disaster. Looking around the tent, it appeared that Wynonna, Dolls and Jeremy had made similar mistakes. She chanced a wink at Waverly who beamed a happy look back towards her. 

Nicole couldn’t help but smirk at the way Waverly rolled her palms around her dough, gently shaping it into plump balls. Then it was time to roll her own dough portions, one by one, in circles with her hand but the redness in her face gave her away her internal thoughts immediately. Sensing gay panic from three feet away, Sue arrived to poke the beaver for the benefit of the cameras. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Oh. Ah, hi Sue. I was just wondering if I’d accurately weighed my balls.” As a deflection, Nicole’s response was as effective as a blazing spider on a rum soaked cupboard.

Champ snorted at the comment, his smug voice cutting off any teasing Sue was about to impart to Nicole.

“I bet they’re smaller than mine.” 

His interjection drew Sue’s scathing attention like a red rag to a Bull. “Champ everyone’s balls are smaller than yours, even though they look massively under proved today. What’s gone wrong for you ‘dear’?” Sue shot back the comment, leaving Nicole to massage her delicate dough mounds in peace.

Champ’s behaviour grew increasingly churlish under Sue’s interrogation. His lips curled in disdain as he came to realise there was no way he could fix his dough without starting again. He was at least intelligent enough to realise he had no time. He angrily dropped his first oily bagel, allowing boiling water to splash out over his station, nearly burning Sue’s hand in the process.

Understandably, she wrapped up the mini interview quickly and moved over to chat to Waverly instead.

**_Fuck that guy._ **

_Mom! I absolutely will NOT._

**_You know what I mean! Seriously, what is his problem?_ **

_It’s Champ. Does he need a reason?_

**_You’re right. He’s the holotype for ‘Dickhead’._ **

Nicole audibly choked back a laugh at her Mom’s opinion which unfortunately coincided with Champ’s loud exclamation of frustration as he removed a soggy bagel from its bath.

“Are you laughing at me?” Champ whispered aggressively even as he turned to check the cameras were far enough away for his real personality to leak out.

“Yes, Champ.” Was her honest reply. “You make me laugh. What can I say?” She threw her hand up in exasperation. 

Champ sneered in ineffectual anger.

“Yeah? Well, you won’t be laughing when Waverly’s deal falls through when they find out about you two.”

“What? Are you on drugs, Hardy?” Nicole had no idea what the man was talking about and was in absolutely no mood to talk to Champ freaking Hardy James, about her relationship with Waverly. She would deny it to his face even if Waverly was right there sucking on her own at that very moment.

“While you were sleeping, Waverly and I got pulled into a meeting with the studio heads.” Champ confessed, sidling up to Nicole’s station, placing his greasy hands on her floured work surface. “They want us to film a few baking segments for the marketing of this year's show. If it goes well, there might be a new cooking show in it for us, but Waverly refused! Can you believe that?”

“Yes, I can Champ.” That sounded exactly like the sort of thing Waverly would do. She knew Waverly was concerned about the fame aspect of being on the Bake Off, and could well understand her reluctance to step further into the limelight. Nicole felt nothing but pride for her girlfriend and couldn’t wait for an opportunity to arise to ask her about it.

“Yeah? Next thing they did was offer her a book deal based on her blog.” 

“Waverly was offered a book deal? Woah!” Nicole was stunned. “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah. She accepted that faster than an expert bulldogger hogtying a steer.” 

“Well, obviously Champ. It’s completely different.” She tried not to roll her eyes at him but in the end, she really couldn’t be bothered. All she wanted was Champ out of her face so she could turn and look for Waverly.

“How? She’ll have to go on book tours and do interviews. She’ll still be on T.V. It’ll make her a famous food writer whether she wants to be or not.”

Nicole stopped holing her bagels with her thumb as the truth of his statement washed over her. Dammit, he was right. Champ may be a chump but when it came to career opportunities he seemed to be literally on the money. It was Waverly’s dream to publish her own book but Nicole knew she would absolutely shy away from the publicity.

Nicole leaned down onto the work surface, bowing her head briefly in thought. She allowed her finger to reach out and gently tap at the corner of Gizmo’s recipe book, ever present on her station as a lucky talisman. 

All she could see was Waverly bouncing up and down in her living room after finishing the last words of the recipe she’d written in it.

“It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being a published author!” It had all been so adorable, watching Waverly hold the book close to her chest, her face beaming with joy and pride. Waverly’s handwriting was sitting right there even now. She had beautiful penmanship, the words flowing out and onto the page on the first draft. Writing her own book would be a life-long dream fulfilled.

“They made it clear that they want both of us or neither of us for the promo pieces. When she refused they asked her to think about it this weekend and get back to them.” Champ looked Nicole dead in the eye, but she refused to be cowed by him. 

“What do you want.” 

“I want my show, Nicole. I deserve it.”

“Why is any of this my problem?”

“Convince Waverly to do it with me.”

“No, Champ. Waverly can make up her own mind. If she says no, she means no.”

“Convince her…” he insisted “...or I’ll tell the production people all about ‘you two’.”

“Excuse me? What about ‘us two’.” Nicole looked at him then. His hollow smirk disgusted her as he picked up two of her raw bagels, matched up the holes and smushed them together, ensuring the crude innuendo was well understood.

Nicole stared him down.

“Champ, no one is going to care if Waverly is gay, or bi or whatever.” 

“I agree. As much as I think it’s gross as all hell what you two do, you’re right. They won’t care about that, but they will care if she can’t abide by the terms of a contract. They already know you can’t.” Champ pointed at her arm with a look of triumph on his face.

Nicole sighed as she took his point. Her arrival at Crofte Castle the evening before had admittedly caused a sensation. One look at her heavily bandaged arm locked in it’s brace had triggered an avalanche of meetings and phone calls lasting long into the night. Production bigwigs had demanded doctor’s certificates clearing her to ‘work’ on the show and statements from her employers declaring their general ‘okayness’ with the situation considering her leave status. 

Finally, she’d had to sit through an hour long lecture about the legal implications of improper health and safety implementation from a jumped up, overly aggressive little lawyer-man, aptly named Moody. He hadn’t laughed when she offered to sign the multitude of waivers he shoved under her nose in her own blood. 

Nicole didn’t get back to the room she shared with Dolls until after midnight. It was one of the key reasons she’d been so tired all morning.

Right now, she was just tired of listening to the whiny insect-like trill of Champ’s stupid voice.

“It’s probably why you weren’t offered anything, or maybe that’s just because you suck.”

That made Nicole laugh out loud. Nicole knew she was head and shoulders above him in baking talent. Waverly was head, shoulders, knees and toes above them both.

“Champ, you’re delusional as well as disgusting.”

“Maybe, Butch Cassidy...” He winked at her and Nicole wanted to gag. “...but I’ll be famous and you’ll just be a cop, writing up traffic tickets and arresting wino’s on the street, so I don’t really care what you think. Talk to your ‘ _girlfriend_ ’. Get me my deal and I’ll shut my pretty little mouth.” 

Champ grinned like a Chesire cat as he walked away leaving Nicole feeling like she was covered in oil. It was official. Champ, with one utterance, had ruined the word _girlfriend_ for her for eternity.

Only one concept invaded Nicole’s thoughts. 

She had to talk to Waverly.

She had to talk to Waverly as soon as possible.

_So why am I talking to Wynonna? What? What just happened?_

While Nicole had gotten stuck in a feedback loop, trying to process everything Champ had just told her, Wynonna had suddenly appeared next to her, a fist clutching her shirt where it fell at her waist.

“I. Heard. Every. Damn. Word. Of that, Haught.” 

Wynonna was standing so close, Nicole could hear each ragged breath the woman was drawing. The anger flashing across her otherwise still face was terrifying.

“Nobody threatens _my_ little sister. Nobody! Especially not dickless, wax-work, homophobic, knuckle-dragging, life-sized fucking Ken dolls like that piece of walking shit-drizzle!”

Wynonna drew in air to empty lungs, unwilling to waste more than a single breath on all the insults she had for Champ Hardy.

Nicole wasn’t sure why but she was suddenly very, very frightened. 

She had every reason to be.

“Operation Tonya is a go. Repeat. Operation Tonya is a go.”

“Wynonna. Can we talk about this later? With Waverly. Somewhere Bulshar’s camera people aren’t, I don’t know, every-frikin’-where!” Nicole whisper-yelled in exasperation. 

“Look Haughty-good-shoes. If Champ is threatening _my_ baby girl, then we have every damn reason in the universe to fuck. his. shit. up.”

“It’s no secret we both have Probable Cause Wynonna, but that doesn’t mean we get to _‘actually cause’_.” Nicole tried to return to shaping her bagels but Wynonna was not letting it go.

Wynonna held up a small kitchen blow torch, the kind the bakers used to quickly brown off the outside of meringue decorations. With an exaggerated flourish, Wynonna lit the torch. “This thing is basically a mini flame-thrower, Nicole! Justice for Kerrigan! Justice for Waverly!”

“WY. NONNA, NO! Remember what happened last time you used a kitchen blow-torch?” Nicole made a grab for her but missed. The torch made an unsettling sound as the flame whooshed through the air.

“Look, I’m just going to ‘mildly’ set fire to his trousers, It’s not like I’ve got a hidden police baton or anything. It can’t actually hurt him.”

“Yes it can Wynonna! He wears synthetic cottons. He’ll go up like a SpaceX rocket booster!”

“Even better!”

“No! Not even better, Wynonna! Manslaughter charge at best. Attempted murder at worst! I can’t let you do that, no matter how much he deserves it!”

Before Nicole knew it, she was one-armed wrestling Wynonna for the tiny device in full view of the Bulshar camera crew.

“Turn it off Wynonna! You’re being reckless!” Nicole hissed.

“You know what Nicole? That’s kind of my brand!”

Nicole twisted the device, trying to get her thumb close enough to switch it off but as she did, Wynonna unexpectedly let go just as Nicole’s thumb slipped. The device sailed out of her grip, spinning through the air like a tiny catherine wheel. It landed on top of the counter right next to Gizmo’s recipe book.

Which promptly burst into flame.

Nicole stared at Wynonna.

Wynonna stared right back. 

(*`0´)θ☆ ヽ(°□° )ノ

**INT. JUDGE’S TENT  
** Mary, Paul, Mel and Sue sit around the table looking mildly perturbed, after the end of filming Banned Bakes week.

**PAUL**

Well, that was unexpected.

**SUE**

You’re right there Paul. I’ve never seen such a palaver in the tent.

**PAUL**

Wynonna has this special knack of flipping disaster on its head but this week. Wow, I just don’t know what’s gotten into her.

**MEL**

But was her performance worse than Champs?

**PAUL**

Well, that’s the key question here isn’t it? Wynonna made doughnuts, not bagels. Champs pies were absolutely inedible and they both forgot to put the baking powder in their sponge towers which was the entire point of the banned bake showstopper. They’ve been terrible this week. So terrible, it’s hard to separate them.

**SUE**

Mary? What do you think?

**MARY**

I do agree. Unfortunately, one of them is going to have to go.

**PAUL**

This is going to take some serious discussion.

**SUMMER  
** **Purgatory Sheriff's Station  
** **THURSDAY NIGHT**

Nicole stared at Wynonna.

Wynonna stared right back. 

They were at an impasse. One of their own making, and neither looked like they were going to back down any time soon. The uncomfortable eye contact had already gone on for a full five minutes and neither had spoken, or moved in that time. Just the staring, as each dared the other to break first.

Nicole’s cell phone rang in the distance, hidden away at her desk in the station. She let it go to voicemail. Only 30 seconds later, it rang again but still, Nicole ignored it. It rang three further times before it got the better of Wynonna.

“Are you going to answer that?!”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not, Haught?”

“You kicked me in the hooha!”

“You arrested me!”

“Because you kicked me in the hooha! At Shorty’s! While I was in uniform, AND ON DUTY!”

“I did, and I wasn’t even drunk.” Wynonna looked stupidly proud of her early evening antics.

“I know...” Nicole let the bars of the drunk tank go with a rough shove that rattled the old metal with her frustration. “...and yet, you find yourself in the drunk tank anyway. What were you thinking Wynonna? Shorty will be down here first thing tomorrow to arrange serving a trespass notice on you.”

“No he won’t Haughtpants….”

“Yes, he will Wynonna. He told me, the next time you started a fight and broke the furniture he was going to ban you.”

“HEY! This is all your fault anyway. I was handling the York boys until you stuck your flaming red narc nose into my business, and…”

“Handling the Yorks! God, Wynonna I barely stopped them both from punching you in your face. Jesus…” The phone started up it’s clarion call again and Nicole finally moved to go get it. “Welcome to Purgatory, Nicole. The town that’ll force you to arrest your pregnant best friend for disturbing the peace and assaulting a police officer.”

“I heard that!” Wynonna called uselessly behind her. “Damn right I’m the best!”

Nicole moved quickly through the deserted Sheriff's office, abandoned to the night shift which consisted of Nicole and the unfriendly, loner dispatch deputy who kept himself to himself all night which suited Nicole just fine. The last thing she wanted was for more attention to fall on herself, or Wynonna now this week’s Bake Off broadcast was in full swing.

Finally reaching her phone, she answered quickly, worried at the unexpected caller.

“Jeremy? What’s going on? Why have you been blowing up my phone?”

_“Nicole! Thank God! Why are you on duty!”_

“How did you know I was on duty?”

_“Everyone in Canada knows you’re on duty, Nicole. Everyone. In. Canada.”_

“Jeremy…” Nicole sighed as she sat on the edge of her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose. “...I’m going to need you to un-vague this up for me.”

_“YOU ARRESTED WYNONNA!”_

“How the fuck…” Nicole stood and walked back to Wynonna, entirely unconscious of having done so. “...what the fuck...the fuck?”

_“Nicole! You arrested Wynonna on Facebook Live. It was broadcast to millions of people and...holy shit. No one is watching the show. Everyone is online talking about it.”_

“Oh my god...this is bad. This is so, so, so, so fucking bad! Shit! What about the baby! Are people talking about that?”

“What’s going on Haught?” Wynonna clutched at the bars, attention immediately grabbed by the word ‘baby’.

_“No, I mean, that part’s fine at least. The bar was dark and you don’t see Wynonna much in the video. It’s mostly you being all professional and stuff until the chairs start flying and then you’re dragging Wynonna out the door. It looks like you’re saving her from a bar fight right up until she breaks free of your arms and kicks you in the…you know where.”_

“Vulva, Jeremy. You can say it.”

“Can’t!”

Nicole frowned, distracted by Wynonna waving her arms at her.

“Can’t hear! Put him on speaker!”

Nicole rolled her eyes but did as she was asked.

_“The camera gets dropped then because you kind of fall back and knock it to the ground but you can clearly hear you saying you’re going to arrest her. There’s also a short video of you pushing her into the squad car with your boot to her butt. That was kind of hilarious actually…”_

Wynonna’s eyes had grown steadily wider as Jeremy animatedly told the story.

“I bet it was that BITCH Stephanie Jones!”

“Who’s Stephanie Jones?” Nicole found herself asking on auto pilot. Like the answer could possibly help.

“Local skank…” Was all Wynonna managed to get out before a very loud shout rang through the station.

“DEPUTY HAUGHT!”

“Oh shit! The Sheriff!” Nicole fired a look of pure thunder at Wynonna. “I swear to god if I lose my job over this Wynonna...I fucking love this job.”

Wynonna had the good grace to look concerned. “Go talk to your boss Haught, but leave me Jeremy. I’ll find out more.” She ‘gimmie, gimmie’ gestured towards the phone with her hand through the cell bars. Against her better judgement, Nicole handed it to her before hightailing it to the Sheriff’s office.

As the night wore on, the station lit up with activity. Phones were running off the hook and two more deputies had to be called in just to handle the volume of calls and parrot the standard ‘The Purgatory Sheriff’s Department has no comment to make at this time’ answer. Nicole spent the next two hours in her bosses office, recounting her version of events and helping him craft a press release to be run by town officials. 

When it became clear that neither Shorty nor Nicole wanted to take things any further, the release finally went out, explaining that no formal charges were being made against Wynonna. The whole affair quickly became a story about nothing, and the calls to the station stopped abruptly as the media lost interest. 

Tired and abandoned by her new colleagues and the Sheriff to the dregs of the night shift, Nicole eventually returned to Wynonna’s cell to release her, but not before she had ‘enjoyed’ a none-too relaxing tea break with a poorly reheated gluten free supermarket pizza.

As she got closer, she could hear Wynonna talking to herself and it was at that moment that Nicole remembered she had left her unlocked phone in Wynonna’s possession.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

“Wynonna! Who are you talking to?”

“Ahh shit, babygirl. The fuzz is here to spring me. I gotta go. Yeah, yeah, love you too.” Wynonna hung up the phone and unexpectedly threw it through the bars to Nicole who fumbled the catch.

“Was that Waverly? Did you call her?”

“It doesn’t matter Haughtshot. She read me the press release so I take it you’re now holding me here illegally?”

“It’s not illegal to finish paperwork. Or eat pizza by myself in the breakroom.” Nicole petulantly responded as she fished around for the right key. The old-fashioned, heavy cell door creaked as it swung open slowly and a cautious Wynonna waddled through.

“So.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

“Alright. Good talk.” Wynonna turned on her heel and walked abruptly from the station.

Nicole was caught by surprise by her sudden departure. “Looks like we’re still fighting.” Her voice faded into silence in the virtually empty office space and Nicole found herself right back where she started the evening. Lonely on the late shift and entirely unsure where she stood with Wynonna.

Nicole sighed as she slumped into her desk chair, the night’s frankly insane activities catching up with her now she was able to find a moment of peace to catch her breath. She placed her feet flat to the ground and evened out her breathing, trying to ground herself to the moment like Waverly had taught her, weeks ago. 

She managed to gain a feeling of equilibrium as she noticed the quiet noises that made up the sounds of her office. The slight squeak made by the old chair as she breathed. The distant rattle of the settling refrigerator, the answering tutt of the oil-column heaters and the hurr of the overhead incandescent tube lights, the roar of a truck engine and tires graunching to a halt on tarmac.

It was all gone, all drowned out in an instant by the slam of the truck door and a loud, obnoxious call of a wild Wynonna screaming her surname into the still night air.

“HAUGHT!”

“Fuck.” Nicole whispered to herself, keeping her eyes closed. “What now universe?” 

“Get your stupidly amazing ass out here and accept my apology!”

There was no way in Hell Nicole was going to leave the station, but neither could she count on Wynonna going away of her own accord no matter how long Nicole ignored her. Standing slowly, Nicole dragged her desk chair to the far wall in resignation. She willfully ignored every health and safety rule ever written and climbed on top of it so she could peek out the uppermost, unfrosted station window. 

She could just make out Wynonna’s pickup parked haphazardly outside, illuminated by the bright street lighting, but no Wynonna.

“Haught. I am just a girl. Standing in front of a run-down, under funded Sheriff’s department, asking her best friend to come out in the cold to accept her apology before her babies' nipples freeze off.”

“I am not leaving the station, Wynonna.” Nicole called back into the night. “Don't make me arrest you for disturbing the peace AGAIN! Wait. What are you doing? Oh. Oh, no Wynonna. No. Please, don’t…” 

Nicole couldn’t help the cringe in her voice as Wynonna reached into the open window of the truck and then rested a boombox atop her pregnant belly.

“Don’t do what Haughtstuff? I made a song for you. It’s a sorry song.”

“You really shouldn’t have. I mean, really.” 

“Tough shit. The local kids helped me record it after a mindfulness lecture so you have to listen, okay? Do it for the kids, Haught. For. The. Kids.”

“Oh my god.” Nicole whispered to herself. “This is happening isn’t it?”

“I’m taking your silence as consent, which is exactly what I told the kids NOT to do by the way. HIT IT!” Wynonna yelled to no one as she pressed play on the old tape deck herself and raised the entire unit above her head.

The first few seconds of static gave way to Wynonna’s voice slowly getting louder like she was moving closer to a microphone. “Okay, Purgatory hellspawn. Like we rehearsed!” Nicole’s sense of trepidation grew exponentially as Wynonna’s expression split her face in self-satisfied amusement.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO….” The elongated note in Wynonna’s sing-song voice touched a deep childhood memory in Nicole. It was so evocative, Nicole’s imagination immediately knew it was a pirate sing-song voice just like she already knew what the first line was going to be. 

“Who lives in a Pineapple under the sea?!”

“NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM!”

“Lost overboard thanks to poor Waverly.”

“NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM!”

“I’m sorry I burned your gram’s recipe book”

“NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM!”

“But it caught like a match, one lick’s all it took!”

“NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM!”

“Ready? NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM! NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM! NICOLE HAUGHT’S DEAD MOM! NICOLE HAAAAAUGHT’S, DEAD MOOOOOOOM!”

Silence. 

Wynonna lowered the deck to stop the tape inside, but her eyes didn’t waver from the window. There seemed to be a vacuum where no reactions could be given because Nicole’s brain was filled, absolutely filled to the brim with the sound of her dead Mom’s laughter. The memory of it, how it sounded, how it felt, reverberated off every fragment of Nicole’s skull, falsely stimulating her eardrums into thinking she could actually hear it. She could hear it, because the sound came from within her own body. She was laughing hysterically, out the top window of the Purgatory Sheriff's department offices in the middle of town while an insane pregnant woman serenaded her from an 80’s boombox on the sidewalk. 

“I knew you’d get it Haughtsauce! Wait! We did three more versions! Listen!”

“Earp! Get your ass back inside before you give birth to an icicle!”

Ridiculous. Her friend was utterly ridiculous, and she loved her for it.

Wynonna waddled back inside and somehow managed to look smugly self-satisfied and contrite all in one facial expression.

“We good Haughtie McHaught-pants?”

She tried. Nicole honestly tried to look disapprovingly at her friend but it was impossible. The grin was already spread wide across her face. “Yeah, we’re good Wynonna.”

“Are you absolutely sure, because I’ve still got a lot of shit to apologize for, but I don’t have the right adjectives…” Wynonna’s brows furrowed, eyes turning back in her head slightly as if she was trying to access a long erased kernel of knowledge. “...verbs… nouns? Anyway…” Her voice trailed away. 

“Wy, it’s fine. Look. Just, sit down with me okay?” Nicole cleared some papers from a nearby desk and dragged the Sheriff's more comfortable chair out for Wynonna to sit in. By the time she’d returned, Wynonna inexplicably had a beer and soda out on her desk, a variety of snacks and was setting up her laptop with the Bake Off tab open and ready to stream.

“What the shit?”

“It’s Thursday. We watch on Thursdays.”

“No, it’s just. How did you move so fast?”

“Natural talent.”

Nicole didn’t have time to scoff. Wynonna’s face had grown serious as she handed over a piece of paper blindly towards Nicole.

She recognised it, or rather recognised the scrawly, old-fashioned script. It was the paper Doc had fired under the door of the Homestead as they were thrown out on their ear last week.

_I’m all in._

That was all it said, other than a phone number printed on the other side.

“You made me feel like a Superhero Haught. I never acknowledged it, or thanked you for it. Instead I threw you out of the house, all because I was mad at this dick strumpet.” She gestured towards the paper.

Nicole passed it back with a small nod, allowing Wynonna to continue.

“I know it wasn’t you. Despite your status as a narc, I think I always knew it couldn’t have been you who broke that confidence. Apparently Waverly didn’t mean to. Doc called her up to find out how to contact me. I’d been ignoring his lily-white ass. You know, he just slid into my DM’s like it was nothing!”

“What an asshole.” Nicole deadpanned.

“Yeah, well. After his mom passed it sent him into ‘a tidal wave of pure unadulterated self-reflection and angst’. You know, real old-timey bullshit. Anyway. I’m sorry Haughtstuff.”

“You’ve apologised to me twice in the space of ten minutes. What’s wrong with you? Who hurt you? Show me on the diagram.” Nicole tried to joke away Wynonna’s sentiment but Wynonna refused to bite.

“Perhaps it’s the season for apologies. I went around to see him. We talked. It was…okay. I’m okay with him being here, I guess. Enough about the walking moustache.” Wynonna looked at the floor. 

“Look, I did another thing…” Wynonna admitted. “Apparently, when I fly off the handle I then try and fix things with grand gestures, and… I’ve been playing the long game on this one.”

“Fuck, Wynonna.” Nicole couldn’t help the exasperation leaking from her voice. It was equal parts exhilarating and exhausting being in the same orbit as her friend. 

“So, you know I spent quite a bit of time with Dolls…” 

“Spending time. That’s kind of a lame euphemism for wild, horny, pregnancy sex.”

“Like ‘doing laundry’ was so unique.”

“Hey, we were always actually doing some laundry, as well as all the sex.”

“Uh, huh. Sure. Anyways. One of the things that let me know we weren’t really a long term thing was that he would not shut up about cricket. I mean, the man’s obsessed with it.”

“He’s a coach. Of course he is. Coaches live and breathe their sports..”

“Haught. Let me finish because I do not want to talk about men running around a field holding sticks for longer than I have to. So, he told me this story about the world series, ultimate fighting championship that gets played in England or whatever. It’s called ‘The Ashes’.” Wynonna mimed appropriate air quotes.

“The Ashes. Like, they play for ashes or something.” Nicole sounded unconvinced.

“Yes! That’s exactly what they do! Someone burned their jockstrap or something, they put it in a little urn and they use it as a trophy. It’s like, world famous apparently.”

Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose and she scrunched up her face. Her friend was being even more obtuse than usual. It had been a long day, filled with periods of intense action and reaction, followed by lulls of extreme boredom and mundanity and Nicole was tired. Too tired to pick through the meaning of an obscure sports anecdote.

“Wy, just tell me…”

“Check my pinned tweet on Twitter, Nic.”

“You called me Nic.”

“No I didn’t.” Wynonna bristled, her eyes giving away her alarm.

“Yes you did.” Nicole smiled as she unlocked her phone and loaded Twitter. 

“No. I called you a dick. Yeah, check Twitter, ya dick.”

Nicole’s scoff quickly turned into a choke as she opened her phone and found Wynonna’s pinned tweet. Technically, it was a re-tweet from someone she’d never heard of but seemed to be an old friend of Wynonna’s from Greece. It included a photo of a woman holding a small bird ornament in the palm of her hand with the Acropolis in the background. 

🤍 _Wyno Whiskey liked  
_ **Gloria Valdez** @PortalSchmortal  
She’s here! Travel companion locked and loaded Wynonna!  
#HaughtsAshesSeries #HaughtsPostMortemWorldTour 

“Wy…?” Nicole softly enquired as she tapped on the messages and read through the thread. 

“Yeah, well. I really am sorry I burned the recipe book. After, I gathered up the ashes of the burned bit, found the little urn and sent the thing off to a friend who’s still doing the whole ‘travel to escape all her problems’ thing.” 

Nicole was only half listening. Every message on the thread showed a red-crested bird shaped urn in some new place in Europe, at historic ruins, dancing at a nightclub, and in one weird shot, what looked like the world’s most boring board meeting.

“Your grandma’s been on quite the adventure.”

“She’s in Thailand right now?” Nicole finally got to the most recent message in the thread.

“Yeah. Valdez has gone to ‘find herself’ or whatever. Hey, I hope you don’t want your Grandma back, ‘cos she’s pretty attached to that bird now. She takes it everywhere with her, and I mean _everywhere._ So although it kinda looks like a ‘hashtag-grand-tour’ I’m betting she’s seen more of the seven wonders of backpackers bathrooms than the seven wonders of the world if you know what I’m saying.”

“Wynonna…” Nicole’s voice was soft with awe. “I never know what you’re saying, and I don’t know what to say to you right now. This is the coolest, kindest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, well. You lost your mom, and then I nearly made you lose your book and I wanted to…look. I know you love my sister and everything…”

“I do Wynonna. So much it actually physically hurts.”

“Good. You better. I just, kinda love you too, you know? Platonically. Not… lesbianically. Despite the admitted haughtness of your ass.”

“That’s a banned word.” Nicole looked down at her feet, unsure of herself, completely floored both by Wynonna’s declaration and the realisation that she hadn’t censured the thought from coming out of her mouth. 

“You can’t say the ‘L’ word. Dude, that’s pretty fucked up for a lesbian.”

“I agree. Also, not _lesbian._ I can say lesbian. I just can’t say…”

“Oh. _That_ ‘L’ word. You’ve never said it? Not even to Waverly?”

“Especially not to Waverly. She’s the one who banned it actually.”

“So...you’ve never told her?”

“Once. I... tried.” Nicole took a long pull of her beer, utterly done with any concern she might’ve had at being caught drinking on the job.

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah.” Nicole played absent-mindedly with the sticker slowly sloughing off the bottle, aching to change the conversation. “Wynonna, seriously. Thank you for this. It’s amazing and I won’t ever forget it. I don’t deserve you as a friend, you know?”

“Dude. No one _deserves_ an Earp. You just get lumped with us and then have to spend the rest of your life wondering what the fuck went wrong.”

Nicole leaned forward and grabbed Wynonna by the shirt. “Shut up for once, and listen. Thank you. For all of it. You’re my island in the stream of nonsense this whole experience has thrown at me and… just… fucking _thank you,_ for being my friend. ” Nicole spoke with insistence, her eyes boring holes in Wynonna’s own. For that one brief moment, Nicole let the flood of emotion wash through her. The gratitude, delight and frustration that was her friendship with Wynonna Earp. She let the tears prickle her eyes and then, she let Wynonna go.

“Fuck you, Haught.” Wynonna said softly.

“Fuck you too, Wynonna.” Nicole spoke the words in the same tone other people said ‘I love you’. 

Because she did. She loved her irascible, unpredictable and ornery friend. “Thank the fucking universe you survived this week. I don’t think I could’ve survived another week with Champ.”

**_“Yeah, I am pretty surprised to be honest with ya. I thought I had done alright, but...the judges want me to leave, so that’s what I’ll do. I aint even sad to be honest. I got a few projects lined up already so this aint all you’ll be seeing of Hardy ‘Champ’ James, that’s for sure.”_ **

“Urgh, if only. My eyes still haven’t recovered, Wynonna.”

“Your eyes? My motherfucking _soul_ will never be the same again.”

“I guess we’ve got all that to ‘look forward’ to.” Nicole sighed as she thought about the next five weeks the competition would be on air. 

“So, uh. Are we back on schedule next week Haught?” Wynonna asked while looking around the station at anything that wasn’t her face. Nicole couldn’t help the soft smile she grew in the face of Wynonna’s vulnerability.

“Of course. I only took this shift to give you more space. Next week is important. We need to be together, so yes. Back on schedule next week, but I have a different venue in mind.”

“Where’s better than the Homestead, Nicole?”

Nicole took another long pull of her beer, purposely drawing out her response as the last refrain of the Bake Off closing credits fell from the tinny laptop speakers.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “...if Wynaughty nonsense be somethin’ ye wish, READ THIS FAN FIC!”


	7. You Don’t Have To Say You Love Meringue (by Dusty Springerle Cookies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homework courtesy of Mercedes Gardner: Vancouver Police codes: https://vancouver.ca/police/policeboard/agenda/2008/080716/0840%20RPM%20Amendment.pdf”

**“**

_You don't have to say you love me  
_ _Just be close at hand  
_ _You don't have to stay forever  
_ _I will understand  
_ _Believe me, believe me I can't help but love you  
_ _But believe me I'll never tie you down_

**“**

**DESSERT WEEK**

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Mel and Sue walk into shot, animatedly in discussion with each other. The sound fades in just as Sue asks a question.

 **SUE  
** Did you know I used to be in the Royal Marines?

 **MEL  
** Really? What rank did you hold?

 **SUE  
** Well, I started out as a Bugler. The rank and file loved the sound of my cream horn.

Mel rolls her eyes to camera as they walk, as if she wouldn’t have tried to make the same joke herself.

 **SUE  
** Then I got promoted to Quartermascarpone and finally made it to Major Genoise Cake before I ‘desserted’ for the love of a custard tart.

Sue winks to camera as the pair come to a stop with the Bake Off tent now fully in shot behind them. 

**MEL  
** Custard tart? Must be Dessert week.

 **SUE  
** Yes indeed! The tent is filled to bursting with jugs of cream, salted nuts, and coconut balls, but thankfully no spotted dick.

 **MEL  
** Yes, we wouldn’t want a repeat of last year's Eton Mess would we Sue?

 **SUE  
** Absolutely not. Mel? Is that all our dessert week innuendo?

 **MEL  
** Oh, no. There’s plenty more stored in my soggy bottom. More than enough for us to have our cake and eat it too!

 **SUE  
** Excellent! Let’s get on with it then.

 **MEL & SUE  
** (Together)  
Welcome to Dessert Week!

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**END OF SPRING  
** **Earp Homestead, Purgatory  
** **Week prior to filming**

Nicole rolled over and instantly regretted it for two reasons.

First, Waverly was gone. 

Her side of the bed they’d been sharing in Waverly’s room at the Homestead was cold under the mis-matched and rumpled blankets. Which told her that either she’d slept in or Waverly hadn’t slept well again and was up before dawn obsessively tidying or decorating some other area of the Homestead.

Second, ow.

Nicole had rolled on her arm. Again. She did it every morning, without fail. It always hurt more than it should considering the actual wound was beginning to heal over nicely. The pain was still catching her whenever she tried to grip or lift something higher than a 45 degree angle.

“World’s worst alarm clock.” Nicole mumbled into the pillow before sitting up with a sigh. She tried a few of the simple exercises her physio had suggested but her grip still felt weak. 

“Goddammit…” She whispered to herself in tired frustration.

The near constant ‘pins and needles’ sensation crawling down her arm from the wound, through her elbow and down into her pinky finger reminded her just how far she still had to go before she’d be cleared for anything other than desk duty. It also reminded her how difficult her practice bakes were going to be.

Not that her job or the Bake Off were sitting at the forefront of her mind at the moment.

_Mom? What am I going to do?_

**_Well for starters you can actually_ ** **go** **_to your next physio appointment instead of hiding out up here in the sticks._ **

_I thought you loved it here?_

**_I do. But I also love my daughter to be healthy_ ** **and** **_happy._ **

_I am, mom. I am happy._

Nicole smiled as she thought about the principal reason for that happiness. Waverly Earp.

**_Because you love her_ **

_Because I love her. You know I do Mom. But…_

**_But?_ **

_It’s too soon to tell her and I…we haven’t even…unless I could properly…_

_You know what? Never mind. I’ll re-book the physio and…_

**_You mean sex._ **

_MOM!_

She had talked about it with Waverly, of course she had. Because they had made out really rather a lot, but Nicole hadn’t had the stamina to get too far. Waverly had been happy to let Nicole set the pace, never once letting her feel bad for pulling back, slowing down or just plain sleeping off her pain and discomfort. 

Waiting had its upsides too. It’s how Nicole knew that Waverly had sensitive ears, and how Waverly knew Nicole loved the feeling of hands in her hair. They were so ready. Beyond ready really, but whenever Nicole lay down, a mass of tiredness dragged at her with the strength of its gravity. Every damn time.

**_Oh come on, I know I didn’t raise a prude. So you’re carrying an injury into the game. So what? The best sex should be rated on degree of difficulty, style points, choice of music, and..?_ **

_‘Did they land on their feet during the dismount’. Yes, thanks for the Golden Girls quote but I’m not sure my Mom should be coaching me through sex anxiety. Where’ve you been anyway?_

**_You mean besides being sunk half-way in silt under the sea, fighting off the local wildlife who want to crawl up my butt to steal my pineapple shell for their Iron-Crab cosplay?_ **

Nicole rolled her eyes.

_Mom…_

**_You’ve been busy…_ **

_But I’ll always need to talk to you, Mom._

**_Well you shouldn’t. Listen, I’ve got a literal Hermit to get off my back so I'm going to leave you with this advice: stop moping about and go find your girl._ **

_My girl..._

Nicole paused for a moment as she felt her Mother’s memory fade. She cast her eyes around Waverly’s room. The space she’d shared with her new girlfriend for the past two weeks had become more of a home to her than her own home had felt for the past two years. The smell of the new paint had faded, but the new curtains and rug she’d helped Waverly choose made her feel like the space was at least partially hers too. Something they shared.

But there was still something ‘off’ about it. Something beyond the painted over walls that Nicole caught fleeting glimpses of every time Waverly deflected a conversation away from her past, every time Nicole had accidently let a hint of her deeper feelings for Waverly spill out when she hadn’t meant to.

Rising from the bed, Nicole walked over to a frame Waverly had hung on the newly painted walls. She’d had the Mary-El version of Kate’s Tarot cards framed on a simple black background, making the strong colours and the gold trim of each card stand out. 

She reached out with her finger and tapped the glass uselessly, as if she were a magician who could change the cards at a stroke with the sheer force of her will. Nicole had been so angry the night of the reading and she still didn’t quite understand why it had gotten under her skin so badly. 

The first card - the ten of swords - was dark and macabre with its skulls, scythe, and murderous death crow riding the corpse of a sheep under a waxing moon.

_The past, ‘wracked by ruin’. She’s carrying something with her. Something she can’t shake off but is desperate for me not to see._

Next, Nicole tapped the four of swords. If it were possible, this card bothered her even more, despite it looking more calming than it’s carrion themed neighbour. It was dominated by a painting of a cloud billowing up into a clear blue sky. The weather is sunny and bright from the perspective of the observer, but the cloud hangs oppressively over the landscape. Lightning strikes dual towers in the distance through a heavy rainstorm. Nicole imagines the dead crow and sheep being caught in the deluge, air whipping their death robes until they’re choking in the water. It’s the card that inexplicably brings tears to her eyes every time Nicole looks at it. 

_The present, ‘lived in seclusion’._

Waverly does not sleep well. She wakes every night at least once. Nicole had stopped asking her if she was alright. The answer was always a quickly uttered ‘yes, fine’. Nicole would pretend to fall back asleep and then Waverly would get up and potter around for a while. Sometimes coming back to bed to squeeze the life out of her. Sometimes not.

Mostly not.

There were moments, though, where Nicole caught glimpses of a lowered guard. Where Waverly was lost in her own head and her eyes seemed focussed on that past, where her face became steel, hard and unwavering. It was always a fleeting moment however, quickly replaced by the bubbly public mask and ‘nicest person in Purgatory’ sash twin-set. 

Waverly hadn’t consciously let her see behind the mask yet, and therein lay the root of Nicole’s worry.

_My girl… Is Waverly my girl? Does she want me, really? Or will I always be held an arms length away? God I feel useless. I’m not good at being useless, Mom._

But the long dead voice of Natalie Haught remained decidedly absent from the conversation, refusing to confirm or deny her daughter's self-assessment.

Nicole didn’t feel owed Waverly’s worries, it was never anything like that, could never be. But being on the outside only exacerbated her feelings of uselessness. Not knowing meant she couldn’t _help_. And that, that was driving her crazy. That was what kept her up at night, waiting for Waverly to return to bed so she could do something, anything that might help create an environment that led to ensuring Waverly’s future comfort and happiness. 

_The Future, ‘Queen of Disks or Pentacles, a card promising good fortune’..._

Waverly’s last card was the hope Nicole held onto every morning. Especially mornings like this, where she woke alone, slightly cold and more than a little melancholy.

Nicole dropped her hand from the glass and rubbed it over her face in frustration, knocking the sleep from her eyes on the way down. Ignoring the dull ache in her arm that she refused to let spread any further into her chest.

_All I can do is watch out for her. Protect her from the problems of the present. I can wait until she’s ready to let me in. I can wait. I can be patient._

_Patient as air._

Forgoing the arm brace despite the latent pain in her arm, Nicole dragged on a pair of sweatpants and left the room in search of her girlfriend. 

Waverly was eventually found in the surprisingly large laundry room tucked in behind the kitchen of the Homestead. She’d been quiet enough that Waverly seemed not to notice her leaning casually in the doorway, unashamedly checking out the vision of the barely dressed domestic goddess sorting through piles of dirty laundry.

_Stop it, you absolute perv…_

_But I’m a_ gentle _perv…_

_It’s still pervy!_

_Well can you blame me!?_

Despite her thoughts running away on autopilot in the background, Nicole allowed her eyes to wander over her oblivious girlfriend, fully intending to immediately announce her arrival by clearing her throat or tapping her foot but her intentions disappeared, floating out the tiny window as her eyes lingered over the sight of Waverly’s exposed neck.

It was irresistible, the scoop of flesh revealed by the wide open neck of an old sweater falling open, almost all the way to Waverly’s shoulder. With her hair tucked forward over the opposite, Nicole had the most tantalising view.

Nicole’s gaze flowed over the exposed skin, then dropped quickly to the low hanging hem. Waverly’s bare legs were on show from way above her mid thigh. They swayed slightly to music only Waverly could hear as she checked the pockets of each item before dropping it into the top-loading machine.

Then Waverly reached up to the shelf, her arm stretched to its fullest extension, fingertips just able to grasp the bottle of home-made detergent. The hem of the sweater rode up, up, up until Nicole could see a small shadow cast on the back of Waverly’s thigh. A shadow cast by the exposure of an utterly naked ass cheek. 

Nicole didn’t register moving. She was just transported to Waverly’s back. Her thighs pressed behind Waverly’s, her lips whispering in her ear “Let me…” as her good arm reached to take the bottle from the shelf with ease. She dropped it quickly into the pile of clothes, her attention focussed only on the sensation of her lips touching Waverly’s unflinching skin.

“I could’ve gotten it. I don’t need…”

“I know, but being mildly taller than you is the only thing I’ve got going for me right now.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Waverly breathed as she leant back into Nicole’s touch. Her arm snaked up into sleep tousled red tresses, pulling slightly to encourage Nicole’s attention to her neck. “Good morning…” 

“Morning.” Nicole mumbled back through delicate nips. “I missed you.”

“Hmmmm. I was coming straight back to bed. I just wanted to get a load on so it would be finished before we need to leave later.”

“Ahhh. Clever. Wise.” Nicole managed to reply in between peppered kisses. She was slightly embarrassed to admit to herself but the feeling of holding Waverly in front of her like this was _doing_ things to her. It made her feel powerful. Not dominant or controlling in any way but rather like she was _in_ control, like her hand was steady on a tiller, sailing a calm sea with no particular destination in mind other than to enjoy the journey and the view.

Waverly’s warmth seeped back through the thin cotton of Nicole’s sleep tanktop, causing a small sigh of contentment to escape, answered immediately by a sigh of Waverly’s own. 

Unencumbered by the brace, Nicole allowed her injured arm to travel gently around the smaller woman’s waist, the other joining it as both hands explored the toned plains of her stomach. Nicole’s lips danced further south to the enticing skin of Waverly’s exposed shoulder.

A ragged breath escaped Waverly’s lips which ignited the low burning embers in Nicole’s body into flame.

“Nic… please.” Waverly barely got the words out as Nicole returned to the shell of Waverly’s oh so sensitive ear, her tongue now making an appearance to sooth the short, not quite so gentle any more, nips from her teeth.

“Tell me what you need…” Nicole breathed through a small smile. She couldn’t wait to get back to Waverly’s room. She felt stronger than she had in days. This was it. This time she would be able to say no when Waverly suggested they stop for fear of hurting her. This time, she would give Waverly whatever she needed.

“I need you to touch me. Now.”

The clear and firm reply took Nicole by surprise. With a swift, assured movement, Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand from where it was gently tracing circles across her stomach, and began pushing it down. Keeping her own hand firmly over the top, Waverly pushed until Nicole felt whorling curls cupped beneath her palm.

Please? Okay?” Waverly whispered softly, asking for Nicole’s permission to let her be a guide.

“ _Yes, uhhhhhhh_.” Nicole’s thoughts lost all coherency as Waverly parted beneath her fingers. Their hands moved in tandem, guiding, pushing, rocking back and forth while Nicole pushed her hips forward in time with Waverly’s own backward motion. Nicole lost herself in the rhythm of their touch. 

Waverly’s other hand never left Nicole’s hair, so both hands encouraged Nicole to move exactly how and where she needed her and Nicole could only helplessly follow the rolling choreography Waverly was directing.

“Nicole...like that… yeah...oh, ohhhh...”

Her teeth nipped along Waverly’s jaw, desperate to find a way to make it to her lips, to find herself again somehow in the touch of their lips. Waverly’s neck craned in answer, her arm pulling Nicole down to crash their lips together in an awkwardly angled, messy, desperate kiss that only sent both women higher. 

“Waverly? Oh god, you feel…”

“I know… I know. I’ve wanted this… you… for so long…”

“I’ve needed you too Waves. So much...but I…”

“Shhhh, Baby. I know, I know. Just… Oh….OH! Nicole, _Nicole…_ ”

When words began to fail them, soft, audible breaths became the score of their touch. Waverly’s hand no longer guiding, but instead held on for dear life as Nicole’s fingers moved faster, circling tighter, pressing just that little bit harder until her name caught in the back of Waverly’s throat.

It was quick, and dirty and one of the most intensely erotic moments of Nicole’s life.

They stood, quietly panting for several long moments, basking in the afterglow of the moment. Waverly’s weight resting against her taller frame felt somehow all encompassing despite it being Nicole’s arms doing the embracing. She felt needed, necessary even. 

She felt purposeful.

But soon, Nicole felt a quiet roar building in herself. This wasn’t how she imagined her first time with Waverly would be. She felt a sense of shame creep over her, like she’d failed her patience test before she’d even truly tried.

“I’m sorry…”

“Baby? Why are you sorry? That was incredible.” Waverly tipped her head back to try and get more of a glimpse of her face whilst simultaneously pulling Nicole’s injured arm gently around her body, ensuring she couldn’t move away. “Hey, talk to me?”

“I just… I didn’t plan...I wanted to take my time.” Nicole confessed sheepishly, feeling more vulnerable than she had a right to considering where her hand was still resting.

“I still need you Nicole.” Waverly spoke in a tone Nicole couldn’t quite identify with a word in the English language. It stripped any sense of shame lingering within her whilst also making her putty in Waverly’s more than capable hands. “You make me feel so safe. So wanted. Desired. I never had that before.”

Waverly moved then, slowly, deliberately. She removed Nicole’s hand from her twitching centre, placing it on top of the machine in front of the pair with a simple, direct instruction. 

“Hold.”

Then, without turning around, both of Waverly’s hands were on the waistband of Nicole’s sweats. Her thumbs hooked inside and a quick tug had them falling to the ground. Nicole kicked them away with ease.

“I never want to be out of your arms.” Waverly whispered. “I’ll always want to be wrapped in you...”

Nicole felt a part of her soul leave her body as Waverly returned one hand to the back of her head and the other, still coated in her own essence, found its way into Nicole’s underwear.

“ _Waverly…_ ”

“ _Nicole...”_ Waverly exhaled the single word as the fingers in Nicole’s hair tugged deliciously.

“God you _do_ things to me. I didn’t think it was possible to be _this_ turned on.” Nicole confessed as Waverly’s fingers spread her waiting, wanting folds to begin their own blind explorations.

“I’m going to do a lot of things to you Nicole.” Waverly whispered, so quietly, she barely heard the words. “ _All_ the things.”

Nicole could feel Waverly teasing a finger round her entrance, drawing the heat pooling there forward with deft flicks but this time she lingered, circling an unspoken question.

“Yes, please…ahhh!” Nicole cried out softly as Waverly entered her. Just one finger, tentative, wanting to make sure her lover was okay before she pushed any further.

Nicole’s arm tightened around Waverly’s torso as her hips canted forward. The last thing she wanted to do was to crush her girlfriend against the machine but she knew she was going to have a hard time just standing up soon.

“More.” Nicole confessed her need, willing Waverly to understand exactly what she meant. It was followed by a soft beg of “Please.”

Waverly complied. A second finger joined the first, pushing her hand back into Nicole, using the swell of her ass to aid her. 

“Move with me. I’m yours.” Waverly whispered. Her hips rolled slowly backwards as Nicole rolled hers forwards. Once, twice, then harder the third time, encouraging Nicole to take all she needed in the slow, driving movement of her hips. 

It only took a few more experimental movements for the pair to pick up their earlier steady rhythm. Nicole clung almost desperately to the other woman with her injured arm, while her good wrist and elbow locked, holding them steady against falling into the machine as they rocked together.

Once again, the pair craned their necks to seek out each other's lips, mingled breaths catching the more desperate moans and inexplicably, Nicole felt herself hurtling towards her own release, almost at Waverly’s command.

“Waverly? Waverly I’m…”

“Shhh, I know. I can feel you baby.” Waverly whispered. “I’ve got you.”

“I, uhhnnn, Ohhh… fuck, _Waverly_...Uhhhhhhh…”

Nicole came with a shudder, continuing to rock hard onto Waverly’s hand, riding the slow subsidence of her orgasm until there was nothing other than the comfort of her lovers touch, warm breath and all too nimble fingers still tugging at her hair like it was a safety line hanging over a cliff.

“Holy… GOD.”

“I don’t think God had anything to do with that, baby.” Waverly chuckled softly to herself as Nicole’s forearm shifted to rest more of their combined weight on the machine in front of them. Nicole peppered Waverly’s neck with kisses before resting her forehead on her shoulder.

“Yes she did.” Nicole mumbled quietly, not yet quite herself.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmmm. Need a minute.”

“Well I think I can entertain myself while you catch your breath.”

Finally turning in Nicole’s arms, Waverly removed her hand from Nicole’s thoroughly damp underwear. Looking into her girlfriends eyes properly for the first time since falling asleep in Waverly’s arms last night, Nicole could only describe them as being ablaze with mischief.

Waverly slowly raised her clever, clever hand to her mouth, her tongue gently lapping each digit like it was covered in cake mixture. Transfixed, Nicole watched for a lifetime before something in her snapped. 

Forgetting completely about the dull ache in her injured arm, she lifted Waverly up on top of the washing machine, eliciting a squeal of delight from the younger woman, before Nicole smothered the noise with her mouth.

Tasting herself on Waverly’s tongue was probably her second most favourite thing in the world. Nicole already knew her favourite thing was going to be tasting Waverly Earp straight from the source.

It seemed her girlfriend had very similar ideas “I want to see your face too baby. I want to see it somewhere very specific” She tightened her legs around Nicole, drawing her body closer even as she leaned away from Nicole’s proffered lips with a smirk.

“Oh, Waverly. You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you.”

Before she could take Waverly up on her offer, a shadow moved across the room, cast from the doorway behind them, followed by a voice calling from the kitchen next door.

“Hey Waves? Can you keep Red Sonja on a leash or something? I could really do without the wall of flesh and underwear on a Wednesday morning.” 

Waverly giggled as Nicole dropped her head in her girlfriend’s lap, pink blossoming across her cheeks. Sometimes the universe likes to send reminders that it hates Nicole Haught. Getting caught standing around in her underwear by her sister’s girlfriend was a new low. Even for the Universe. 

“It’s Tuesday!” The brunette called out as she patted Nicole’s head gently in consolation, before pushing her away towards her discarded track pants.

“Whatever. The flesh remains and I’m _not_ here for it.” Wynonna called loudly from the other room. 

“You shouldn’t be _here_ at all.”

“Hey, it’s _my_ laundry room too.” Wynonna complained as the pair shuffled sheepishly into the kitchen. 

“How does the machine work?” Waverly accused her arms folded and hip cocked in annoyance.

“It… touché baby girl…” 

Nicole tugged on her girlfriend’s hand gently. She wanted to shower, dress and generally take five minutes to breathe through her embarrassment before attempting to face the day. She felt a little like she was high, foggy on endorphins, embarrassment and the need to seek Waverly’s touch again as quickly as possible.

“Why won’t ‘Red Light District’ look me in the eye? Waverly? Did you guys just have sex in there!? What the fuck baby girl!”

“Okay! Nope, nope nope. We’re not doing this. Come on Waverly.” Nicole dragged her out the door but not before Waverly managed to flip Wynonna off whilst also sticking her tongue out at her older sister.

“Eww! I know where they’ve both been! I live here too, you know. Fuck this, I’m outta here.” Wynonna huffed, grabbing a jacket from the back of her chair, she threw herself through the back door, letting it slam behind her.

“Should you go after her?” Nicole stood awkwardly, never knowing quite where she stood when the Earp sisters got in each other’s faces.

“Absolutely not.” Waverly had a strangely hard glint in her eye. “I can’t believe her. She told me she was cool with us, and with you coming back here again this week. I mean, how dare she when she hasn’t even apologised for burning your book!”

“Hey, like I said before. I know it was just an accident. Wynonna didn’t mean for it to happen so I can’t be mad at her for that.”

“But you should be! It was reckless and stupid and…” 

“Waverly?” Nicole noticed the tears in her eyes. “Baby, it’s just a book. An important book, sure, but it’s just a book.”

“But you didn’t have to look at your face as it went up. I saw it, from across the room. It was awful, Nic.”

“And I saw Wynonna’s face. Close up, in 4K-high-resolution-ultra-3D and I don’t need her to tell me she’s sorry. I _know_ she is.

Waverly folded herself into Nicole’s arms, sniffling quietly to herself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about her too.”

“It’s okay. I’m aware that dating an Earp is kind of a two-for-one deal.”

Waverly leaned back to cock an eyebrow at her girlfriend. 

“You got something to tell me?”

“NO! Holy hell, not like that! Wynonna is… wow, so not my type.”

“Hmmm. Well, let’s see about that shower, some breakfast and then we can go get her back.”

“You know where she went?”

“I know exactly where she went.”

 **Shorty’s Bar and Grill  
** **Purgatory**

“So this is the famous Shorty’s?” Nicole looked around the bar as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The entire place was wood-panelled in a way that screamed small-town country in the same way that Crofte Castle screamed ‘more money than sense’.

Despite the slightly hazy atmosphere, the stench of stale beer and the presence of local day-drinkers already half slumped over their glasses at various spots around the bar, Shorty’s gave off a comfortable vibe that Nicole wasn’t expecting. She automatically added it to the expanding list of ‘things I love about Purgatory’.

“Yup! It’s not much but it’s ours.” Waverly responded, clearly proud of the establishment both Earp’s had inherited from their Aunt and Uncle a few years ago after Gus’ retirement.

“You know, if you’re the boss, how come you still wear these very… uh… nice uniforms?” 

“They aren’t a uniform, baby. No one _has_ to wear them, but most of us do because we get better tips.”

“Even the Management?”

“Especially the Management.”

“Oh, well in that case, you should think about having wet tee-shirt competitions. I could be down with that.” Nicole grinned.

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Would you be so keen knowing that Anthony wears this uniform too?” 

“Anthony?”

Waverly pointed to the wall beside the bar. The top shelf displayed a line of the best whisky labels but underneath, Nicole could make out an old high school hockey trophy, a locked silver briefcase with a pair of (bloodied?) handcuffs dangling from it and a taxidermied goat, wearing a Shorty’s bar and grill crop top and mini skirt.

“People get drunk here. They leave stuff.” Waverly explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “Anthony’s been here for fifteen years.”

“Welcome to Purgatory, Red.” A voice called out from a particularly darkened corner.

_Speaking of day-drunks slumped over their drinks…_

“Don’t bother to check out. Everyone leaves whenever the fuck they want.”

Nicole sighed as she turned. Wynonna was bent over, her hair draped to one side, hiding her face and arms from view.

“If she’s got a drink, I swear to god I will KILL her!” Waverly went to push past Nicole and confront her sister, but Nicole wrapped an arm tightly around her middle, almost lifting her in the air as she held her girlfriend back. 

“Waverly. Let me?” She spoke softly, practically whispering into Waverly’s hair, and it had an immediate calming effect. Waverly stopped struggling.

“Okay. Okay. I’ve got to talk to talk to Anthony about inventory anyway.” Waverly pecked her confused girlfriend on the cheek.

“Wait, a goat handles your inventory? Just how ‘small-town’ is this place?”

Waverly smiled as she walked away. “We’ve only got about 20 names round here. The Sheriffs called Anthony too.”

“Doesn’t that get confusing?”

Waverly just shrugged and pointed Nicole back towards her task. Talking to a grumpy Earp, who was now peering at her through a curtain of leather tassels and hair with a scowl that could temper steel.

“You know, I nearly didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.” Wynonna leaned back in the booth and reluctantly pointed to the bench seat opposite her, inviting Nicole to sit. “Look, I’m happy or whatever that you’re here and that you make my baby sister happy too but Waverly forgets it’s my house of horrors too and sometimes it would be nice to walk around without being reminded about the drought in Earp valley.”

Ignoring Wynonna’s oblique statement, Nicole raised her hand in the air and cleared her throat before she spoke with the most formal voice she could muster without corpsing. “Wynonna, I do solemnly swear, to always be fully clothed in every room of the Homestead, excepting Waverly’s locked and barred room, from this day henceforward until the end of time, amen. We cool?”

“Pinky promise?” Wynonna scowled at her.

“Pinky promise, no take-backs. I swear on my Mother’s pineapple bedazzled, ashen ass.”

Wynonna snorted at that. “Alright, Haught-panties.”

“They’re boyshorts, actually.”

“Dude.”

“What?”

The women smiled wryly at each other for a moment before, strangely, Wynonna broke first.

“I don’t mean to be an ass, Red. It’s just sometimes, Waverly strutting her happiness around the place is a little hard to take. Oh, don’t get me wrong…” Wynonna reacted to Nicole’s answering frown. “I’m very happy she’s cashed in her tokens on the Lesbian grab-a-toy fun-fair claw machine.”

“Wynonna, gross.”

“I always thought those games were rigged and yet, she grabbed a stuffed Clifford the Big Red dog on her first go. But the rest of us aren’t that lucky.”

A cloud settled back on Wynonna. “What do you mean?”

“I told the Dad. About Beanie-Baby here.” Wynonna had been absent-mindedly rubbing her belly since Nicole had sat down.

“Ah. And it didn’t go well.” Was all Nicole could think to say.

“Nope. So I needed to distract myself.” Wynonna picked up something from the seat beside her and slapped it down on the table, pushing it back towards Nicole. It was Gizmo’s charred recipe book.

“I brushed off the burned bits. Most of it’s still intact, though. Especially the unused pages. I basically just turned it into the pirate treasure map edition. So. You’re welcome.”

“Why do you have this? 

“Waverly told me all about how she got to add her own recipe and I figured one more Earp contribution couldn’t hurt.”

“Wynonna, what did you do?!” Nicole flicked through the book in a panic. She found it quickly, sitting in the middle of the blank pages in complete contravention to the linear progression taken in the rest of the book. 

“Knickerbocker Glory-holes…” She read incredulously. “You stole from me so you could add a recipe for ‘Knickerbocker _Glory-holes_ in my GRANDMOTHER’S recipe book?“

“Yeah. They’re ‘delish’.” Wynonna grinned.

Stunned, Nicole merely blinked into the ensuing silence. Then again, and finally, three blinks in rapid succession.

“Wynonna? Why isn’t this called a ‘Nic-a-copper glory hole’?” 

Nicole probably shouldn’t have enjoyed the journey Wynonna’s face went on as she processed her failure to utilise a prime opportunity to twist her name but it was a sight to behold.

“I… Goddammit! Gimmie it back!”

“No way! You lost your chance!” They both made a grab for the book, their efforts ending in a tug of war, both women grinning like idiots.

“Children!” Waverly’s voice rang out from across the bar.

“Waverly! Tell your girlfriend to stop hogging her Haught heirlooms!”

“Waverly! Tell your sister to give me back my glory holes!”

Wynonna snorted as she suddenly let go of the book, plunging Nicole backwards into her seat.

“Can’t I leave you two alone for five freakin’ minutes?” Waverly complained, a little more agitated than she should be.

“Hey, we’re both grown adults and I’m growing a brand new future adult. We don’t need supervision.” Wynonna defended.

“Well can you _not_ frighten away actual paying patrons while you’re here please?” Waverly huffed in distracted annoyance, casting her eyes back towards the storeroom.

“Hey, what’s up?” Nicole asked, reaching up the small of Waverly’s back, hoping to rub calming circles over the sliver of exposed skin.

“I think I probably should’ve let Goat Anthony do the inventory because barely human Anthony has royally fudged it up. I’m really sorry baby, but I might need to stay in for a couple of hours.”

“Hey, that’s fine. I think I can entertain myself. You do what you need to.” Nicole smiled, just giving Waverly a small peck on the cheek, mindful of Wynonna’s gagging opposite her. 

“It’s not you I’m really worried about.” Waverly stage whispered her reply while giving her sister the side eye. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Waverly cupped her cheek and kissed her, a little longer than she needed too, a little shorter than they both wanted to.

Nicole tried not to let her eyes follow her as Waverly walked away but judging by Wynonna’s expression and defeated sigh, she failed.

“Red, I _really_ need a drink and because I can’t do that, you are going to do it for me. “

“It’s 10.30 in the morning Wynonna.”

“Not in Purgatory.” Wynonna got up, peeked into the stock room to make sure Waverly wasn’t nearby, then hurried behind the bar. She returned with a bottle of whisky and two tumblers, filling one with water and one with whisky. “In Purgatory, it’s _always_ whiskey o’clock.”

Nicole eyed the glass warily. She knew she could handle her drink but the twinkle in Wynonna’s eye had her questioning her ‘do the right thing’ compass reading. 

On the one hand, it wasn’t even lunch time and she had a glass of whiskey in front of her. On the other, Wynonna sat opposite her looking like a little lost wolf-cub whose siblings wouldn’t play with her

**_This is a spectacularly bad idea isn’t it?_ **

_Oh, you betcha._

**_Gonna do it anyway?_ **

Nicole rolled her eyes and raised the glass.

“Alright Haught-lips! Let’s do this! Ena, dio, tria, drink!” Wynonna skulled back the water as Nicole did the same with the whiskey, eyes watering for the second time that morning. 

“AGAIN!” Wynonna shouted.

Ninety minutes later, with an unresolved argument about whether Nicole was more likely to be Ludo or Didimous to Wynonna’s Sarah in a remake of Labyrinth and a dramatically one-sided pool competition under Nicole’s belt, Waverly finished her stock-take.

And Nicole was drunk.

(*·∀·)爻(·∀·*)

_You know you look ridiculous, right._

Nicole felt a pout fix to her face as she stared into the dark slits of Goat Anthony’s taxidermied face, her own reflection barely in focus in the bar mirror behind the animal.

_Mini-skirts were not intended for goat hips, okay? And Blue is really not your colour. Hey…”_

“...you can keep a secret, right Anthony?” Nicole managed to get a few actual words out of the prison of her whiskey soaked inner monologue.

_I like it here… I wanna stay here. For, like… a really, really, really long time, but my name isn’t Anthony. D’ya think I’d hafta change it? Is it like, a condition of citizenry? But ohhhh. Shhhhh. I can hear Waverly. She’s coming over here and I don’t wanna tell her but I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink…._

“Why is Nicole sitting in the corner? Is she… Is she _talking_ to Anthony?

“Keep your hair on baby girl. She’s fine.” Nicole heard Wynonna’s voice defend her from across the bar. Nicole tried to turn towards the voices talking about her but no one came into view. The ceiling somehow grew taller though, and the floor was also quite a lot bigger than it was a few seconds ago.

Nicole now had to look up from her new position on the floor to see Goat Anthony’s face twist in admonishment at her.

“HEY! Isss no’ ma fault, Anttt’ny! Dat is a _woman’s_ skirt…”

“'Nonna! Is she drunk? It’s lunch time!”

“How was I supposed to know she was such a lightweight?”

“You’re not, but you _are_ supposed to know she’s still on pain medication and she’s not supposed to drink to excess!” 

Nicole hated seeing the Earps fight, even when she was drunk. She stood carefully, hoping she wouldn’t fall down again in the process. It was time to be the bigger woman and calm things down before they got out of hand.

“Hey, hey, hey. Hey now. Let’s...Waverrrry? Ohhh! You’re so pretty and I like you so much!” Nicole grabbed her into a bear hug, 

“Also, it’s not my fault she started with whiskey and then moved on to peppermint shots” Wynonna threw an empty shot glass at Waverly, who barely caught it due to shouldering an increasing amount of Nicole’s weight.

“It tastes like Chwis’mas…. _You_ taste like sunshine” Nicole leered at Waverly with what she thought was an endearingly sly grin. 

“Oh, my god. We are never doing this again Haught-sauced.” Wynonna’s disgusted voice drew away from the pair as she made for the exit.

“What? Your sister’s…”

“Can it, Red!”

“...wonderful. And so, so beautiful.” Nicole let Waverly go and stumbled towards Wynonna and the exit instead. “And kind and… and… do you think she likes me Wy? Cos I really, really, really… need to throw up.”

“Okay! She’s all yours baby girl…” Wynonna turned a baffled Nicole and lightly pushed her back towards Waverly. “Consider this payback. If I have to look at Red Sonja in the a.m. then _you_ can deal with Paralytic Pippi Longstocking.”

“No! Get your leather-clad, baby-bearing ass over here and help me.”

Nicole looked up in time to see Wynonna crumble in the face of her irked younger sister. "We going home? T’ the, the, the...homostead?” Nicole asked, as the elder Earp grabbed her roughly under her good arm and dragged her outside towards their battered old truck.

“Yes. We’re going to the ‘homostead.” Wynonna snorted in reply, rolling her eyes at her sister.

The horizon was wavey and inexplicably moving but a glint in the distance caught Nicole’s eye. “Oooo, whassat?” Nicole could just about make out an elaborate badge sigil on a window across the street. The building was squat, made of brick and sat on the corner, occupying space like only a drab municipal building could.

“Isssat a cop shop? You have your own Po’… Po’?” For some reason Nicole had forgotten how the word ‘Police’ was formed in her own mouth. She crossed her eyes in confusion before miming finger guns at Wynonna.

“Yeah, Purgatory’s got it’s own Po’-po’. That building services the whole of the Goat River Triangle.”

“Hey!” Nicole shouted and waved towards the building. “I’m a Po’-Po’ too! I got a gun!” She tried to reach for something in her sock while both Waverly and Wynonna tried to slap their hands over her mouth at once.

“Nicole! Shhhhh! You can’t be shouting that in the middle of the street! Not even in Purgatory!”

Nicole nodded slowly and whispered her reply with wide, unfocused eyes. “Oh, shoot. _I left it at home!_ ” 

“Well thank Riggs and Murtaugh for that.” Wynonna replied, tugging further on Nicole’s slumped body. “Ugh! Why are you so heavy? Waverly, couldn’t you have fallen for a _pocket_ sized Geena Davis?”

Nicole was well past being able to follow the Earp sisters conversation so she just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The problem she now found herself with, was that when she looked down, her eyes couldn’t see her feet.

“Oh my god!”

“What baby? What’s the matter?” Waverly’s concern briefly poked through her annoyed exterior.

“I lost my feet! They’re gone! They’re not gonna hire an officer of the law who can’t find her own feet!”

“They’re right there ‘Cuntstable-can’t-hold-her-drink’.” Wynonna sighed even as she struggled to hold Nicole upright.

“You mean they’re inwisible!? Woah! Am I the Inwisible Woman?” Nicole stared at the Earps as if they were mad for not following her train of thought. “You know, Margawet Hamilton was in that film, an’ I _love_ her.”

"The scientist?" Waverly asked with interest. “Yeah, she’s pretty sexy, but…”

“No, no… she means the other one. Thingee from the Terminator movies.” Wynonna spoke confidently as the shambling trio finally reached the truck.

“No…” Waverly corrected. “...that’s _Linda_ Hamilton. Margaret Hamilton was a sexy computer scientist lady…”

No, no, no, no…” Nicole insisted, grabbing Wynonna by the lapels of her jacket. “Margawet ‘I’ll get you my pretties!’ Hamilton’!” She clung on for dear life as if the distinction was as important as the correct combination of codes that would prevent nuclear war.

Wynonna jerked open the back door, put her hand in Nicole’s head, forcing her to bow, then unceremoniously kicked her up the backside so she fell across the backseat like a hogtied Kangaroo.

“It was necessary.” She heard Wynonna call across the hood of the truck.

“That’s fair.” Waverly replied. “Now can we please go home so she has a chance of sleeping this off before your scan?”

“Fine, but I’m driving.”

“You always do. Right up the wall.” Waverly huffed as she slid into the back seat so she could wrap a seat-belt around her girlfriend then hold Nicole’s head gently in her lap. 

“Cake my teas...” Nicole implored uselessly, trying to pass Wynonna a fist ful of crumpled receipts and pocket fluff out the window. 

“I’m sowwy Waywewy. Are ya mad?” The small crinkled smile Waverly offered was all Nicole needed to feel more relaxed.

“No, Nicole. I could never be mad at this face.”

Nicole didn’t hear much more after that. The feeling of Waverly’s fingers carding through her hair softened every bump the road fired through her throbbing skull. She closed her eyes and all she could see was the insignia of the Goat River Triangle Municipal Police department.

**_Nicole… What are you thinking?_ **

_I’m thinking… Peppermint and Whisky is a great name for a crime fighting duo._

**_Yesss. But what else are you thinking?_ **

Nicole sighed, taking a minute to think of an answer for her intrusive memories of her mother’s voice through the fog of alcohol.

_I’m thinking… Sheriff’s Deputy Nicole Haught has a nice ring to it. Doncha think?_

(＋_＋) ┌iii┐

**BAKE OFF TENT  
** **SATURDAY**

 **PAUL  
** We’ve asked the bakers to make a classic English dessert staple this week. All they have to do is make perfect Savoiardi, otherwise known as Lady Fingers. But, to make this a real challenge for them, we’ve completely opened up the Dessert Signature challenge to their interpretation. They could turn them into eclairs, make a tiramisu, a Charlotte Russe. We’ve given their imaginations free reign on this so we’re expecting a variety of approaches. We’re expecting indulgence. We’re expecting elegance. But most of all, we’re expecting perfection.

 **MARY  
** (Oblivious)  
Lady Fingers are quite simple to make but they are hard to make perfectly. This is week six of the Bake Off and we really want to see something special. Their Lady Fingers must be consistent in size and shape, they must be light and airy, and of course, regardless of what flavours the Bakers have matched them with, when you put them in your mouth they must melt in your mouth and taste exquisite.

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**BAKE OFF TENT  
** **SATURDAY**

Daggers.

Nicole Haught finally understood what that old phrase meant, because Waverly Earp was staring daggers at Nicole’s back from her workstation behind her. She could feel the annoyed attention of her girlfriend as pin pricks all over her skin and yet Nicole couldn’t help but smirk at Waverly’s barely contained annoyance.

After all, she’d done this to herself.

The tent was boiling in a muggy heat that was likely the precedent to an intense summer thunderstorm judging by the hint of ozone in the air and Nicole was trying to make a Charlotte Russe in a full three piece suit, all because of losing a bet with one Waverly Earp. 

In short, she was hot. In more ways than one.

Temporarily removing her new, much lighter arm brace, Nicole pushed the sleeves of the crisp, perfectly ironed white shirt up her arms, hoping her elbows would hold them in place. Next, she loosened the heather grey tie that really made the outfit in her opinion, making sure she had turned to face Waverly while she did it.

The sight of her secret girlfriend losing focus in her eyes, her teeth gently gnawing on her bottom lip, punctuated by the sound of the spatula she’d been holding dropping to the floor was quite something to behold.

Waverly quickly sank behind her work station to retrieve it, perhaps hoping to avoid anyone noticing the pink blossoming across her cheeks but Nicole saw it. So she waited, unmoved, for Waverly to pop back up before deliberately catching her eye and holding it.

It had been Waverly’s suggestion. “Dress up for me Nicole.” She’d said carelessly after claiming a higher position in the previous week’s technical challenge. ”It’s the only way I’ll let you out of judging the Chilli cook-off. Make me want to tackle you to the floor and cover you in whipped cream.” Judging by the look on Waverly’s face, she was about three seconds away from doing just that. The longer they maintained eye contact, the wider Nicole’s smirk grew. 

But then Waverly’s eyebrows pulled together in anger, her lips pursed, holding back what she wanted to shout at Nicole. She seemed determined not to be the one to break first, but her resolve snapped in an instant when Nicole slowly, and deliberately bent over as she opened the oven door and carefully removed her perfectly baked Savoiardi knowing full well that the open shirt would reveal a hint of purple laced Victoria’s Secret to anyone who cared to look her way. 

Waverly turned on her heel and hurried to the equipment kitchen hidden at the back of the tent with her floor-soiled spatula clutched in her hand in a death grip.

_Oh boy._

“Fix it Haught.” Wynonna’s tight voice was suddenly in her ear, but Nicole was distracted enough by her concern for her girlfriend that she didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go check on her.” Placing her hot tray on a nearby stool, Nicole grabbed the arm brace, quickly reattaching it around her neck. She sniffed the air. “Wy? Are your fingers burning?”

“That… that is the smell of my lady finger house on fire, yeah.” She paused for a second before her eyes flew wide. “Fuck!”

Taking advantage of the distraction caused by Bulshar’s camera crew descending on Wynonna, Nicole quietly slipped away, following Waverly. She stacked her dirty bowl on the bench, balancing it precariously with all the others, before slowly turning towards the voice of her girlfriend.

"How dare you." Waverly called quietly, holding a fierce anger in check.

Nicole didn’t even get all the way around before a body hit her square in the chest, knocking her backwards. Lips covered her own, moving in haste even as a leg hooked itself around her own thigh, pulling their bodies together at the hips.

Nicole had completely lost her breath and barely held on to her composure as she gently pushed Waverly away, almost in a panic.

“Waverly! Not here!”

“Why not? No one can see.”

“Waverly… Not here because it’s not fair.”

“Really, Nicole? You wanna talk to me about _fair_ !? You are wearing a tie. A _tie_ Nicole! This was made for me to grab and you know it!”

“This was your idea Waverly!”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d look _hot_ in a suit, I didn’t think you’d be... “

“What?”

“Frickin’ irresistible! There isn’t a word for how turned on I‘m getting just by looking at you.”

Waverly pulled hard on the tie, crashing her lips into Nicole’s while pushing her back into the counter, a tall stack of dishes clinked dangerously with the force of it. Nicole felt Waverly’s hands move from the tie to her waist. Soon, they were cupping her ass hard, pulling their bodies into each other as the bruising kiss continued.

With one arm tucked away in the arm brace, all Nicole could do was snake her good arm up so her fingers could card through Waverly’s hair as they kneaded the base of her skull, encouraging the kiss despite her fear of discovery.

Eventually, Nicole pulled away. “It’s not fair Waverly, because there isn’t a word for how turned on I am either and Bulshar is five meters away, filming Wynonna’s burned Lady Fingers right now.”

“Exactly.” Waverly replied. “They’re distracted. And so am I.”

“And… It’s not fair to either of us to have to bake in this constant, unquenched state of..”

“State of what?” Jeremy’s oblivious voice cut through the pair, causing them to leap apart. He had rushed into the small room carrying a tower of Mason Cash mixing bowls more or less in one arm. He dumped the pile without even looking at them.

Nicole pointed towards the dishes as she exclaimed “Errr, uhhh… this state of filth!” Nicole blushed profusely and Waverly practically choked, caught halfway between a laugh and a cry of despair.

Their mildly panicked reactions seemed utterly lost on a harried looking Jeremy. He grabbed a stack of clean bowls without even making eye contact with them and then promptly left in the middle of Nicole’s answer.

In the vacuum left by Jeremy’s exit, Nicole and Waverly stared at each other in silence, each wondering if they had got away with it or not. A different voice clearing its throat cut through the ensuing silence.

“I am entering the prep kitchen. I am now in the prep kitchen collecting a palette knife…” Dolls fired a knowing side-eye to the pair. “I am now leaving the prep kitchen.” He walked away without further comment.

“Oh…”

“My god..”

“Waverly! We can’t keep doing this!” Waverly just smirked at her before shrugging her shoulders. “Come on! We agreed to keep this under our hats until after filming. We have to do better!” 

“Why? Waverly huffed, her frustration returning in earnest. “Champ’s gone, Nicole.”

“But the threat isn’t. Trust me. Hiding out in a closet again, even one as big as a marquee, isn’t exactly my idea of a fun time.”

“Then why do it?” Waverly spoke softly, leaning back into Nicole as her hands returned to playing with the fine hairs at the back of her skull, knowing full well it would make Nicole just _melt._

“I… I don’t want to be the reason you lose something important Waverly. Publishing your own book? It’s your dream…”

“Hey, look at me?” Said with such a soft, compassionate tone, how could Nicole not comply. “Whatever happens, you’re more important. This…” Waverly gestured between them. “...is more important to me than a book deal. As I seem to remember a wise woman once saying, ‘It's only a book. An important book, sure. But a book nonetheless.’”

“Waverly…” Nicole felt her frown return despite Waverly’s best efforts.

“Nicole, no.”

“Nicole, yes. I get to worry about you now, you know.” Nicole reached a hand up to cup Waverly’s face gently, her eyes searching worriedly for any hurt or discomfort she could possibly brush away with a gentle sweep of her wandering thumb.

“Does worrying help?” Waverly gently prodded.

“No.” Nicole admitted, feeling the unwelcome pout of her lips tug her face into a frown.

“Uhhh, I can’t stand your kicked puppy look.” Waverly sighed in apparent acquiescence. 

“You leave first so it doesn’t look ‘suspicious’ or whatever, but I’m telling you Nicole. Tonight, I am going to find somewhere on this goddamned huge estate where I can have you, this tie and this…” Waverly reached up and stole the hat right off Nicole’s head. “...frankly adorable hat, all to my restless, wandering, floury hands. You feel me?”

“Oh, I feel you baby…” Nicole leaned in to steal a breathless kiss before also stealing the hat back. “Continuity.” She claimed quickly, voice breaking slightly. Nicole turned sharply and walked away from Waverly’s rapidly growing smirk before her resolve abandoned her completely.

As she walked back to her station to begin the next stage of her bake, Nicole felt eyes on her all the way to the front of the tent. Mattie rolled her eyes in annoyance. Wynonna snorted and whispered “Smooth, Haught.” as she passed. Jeremy’s eyes bugged from his head while even Nedley tried and failed to hide an amused smirk. 

“Hi Nicole!” Sue’s overly cheery voice popped up next to her like magic, startling her slightly. “How’s things?”

Thinking she meant the bake, Nicole began to answer but stuttered to a stop when she noticed Waverly waving at her desperately from the back of the tent. She was behind the Bulshar crew so she was really going for the mime of the century, hands circling around her ass then slapping each hand together like she was dusting off… flour. Did she have flour on her ass? Why was that a problem? Everyone’s got flour on their ass, they were baking for goodness sake!

“Good, Sue! I’ve made Savoiardi before so… okay. What’s going on?”

“Nicole, my lovely sweet cheeks. I think what everyone has noticed during your walk of ignominy…”

“My walk of what?”

“...was the beautifully petite new handprint motif you’ve added to this frankly stunning ensemble.” 

Horrified, Nicole tried to turn and look, but only succeeded in looking like a dog chasing its own tail. In the back of the tent, Waverly sat on a stool with her head in her hands. Wynonna, sitting three stations away, was laughing her face off.

Nicole patted her own ass down but no matter how hard she tried, two small handprints remained cupping each of her butt cheeks.

“Here comes Bulshar, and yes I know you call the camera crew that. I love it by the way.” Sue spoke behind her hand. “Front to camera. At all times. Here we go!” 

Ever the thoughtful host, Sue bought Nicole a few more moments to compose herself by loudly calling out to Wynonna first, directing the camera’s attention away momentarily.

“Are these your lady fingers, Wynonna?” 

“Hardly. You need to talk to Haught-to-trot over there. She’s the expert.” Wynonna snorted, looking over at Nicole’s continued efforts to pat down her own ass.

Picking up the tray carefully, Sue slowly brought Nicole’s Lady Fingers over to her station from where they were cooling on a nearby stool. The camera followed her all the way, as if willing her to drop them.

“I hear you’re my sort of woman, Nicole.” Sue declared as she gently placed the cooling Savoiardi down, reintroducing Nicole to the shot.

Sue had a way of talking to all the bakers that somehow managed to tease them whilst simultaneously distracting them from whatever disaster was unfolding. So, for the cameras, for the good of innuendo aficionados everywhere, Nicole played along. 

“Oh, are those my fingers?” Nicole replied, willing herself not to smirk. 

“I think that’s entirely up to you my love.”

But Sue’s retort was lost on her as she assessed the tray. 

“Oh, fuck” She said without thinking.

In her haste to follow Waverly, she hadn’t noticed the baking paper on the tray had slid forward slightly. Three of her savoiardi had cooled overhanging the tray. 

“My fingers are bent!” Nicole declared with sorrow. The camera crew followed every step as she gently gathered them, placing them in a ring around the Charlotte Russe, leaving the bent ones for last. She didn’t have enough to discard them, so filled the hole with the bent fingers curling inwards.

“You know, that’s perfect in my eyes.” Sue declared with a grin. “There’s just something to be said for a good three-fingered curl.” 

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**EXT.  
** Waverly sits on her small stone wall of the bridge fording Crofte stream. The heat of the mid-day sun dapples through the trees, casting a dancing pattern of light across her flushed and mildly sweaty skin. 

**WAVERLY  
** I’m so happy to do well in both the Signature and the Technical this week, but wow. That was probably the hardest challenge I’ve faced so far in the tent. That was so, so… hot. I can’t even describe it. Actually, does anyone have any water?

A hand appears out of shot, passing over Waverly’s own water bottle. She quickly flipped the lid and drank, holding her finger up in a silent request for the interviewer to hold on a minute. She drank, and drank, and drank for as long as a single drip of sweat took to meander slowly from her jaw all the way down her neck.

 **WAVERLY  
** Thanks. I was soooo thirsty.

Flipping the lid back down, she passes it back out of shot.

Right, sorry. What were we talking about?

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

Nicole ran away.

Finishing her post filming interview before Waverly, she took the opportunity to take in some fresh air and sun before the inevitable return of the rain that had plagued the filming of the Baumkuchen technical challenge that afternoon. Sound issues and wind had ensured filming had run right up until the hour before the bakers usually had dinner but right now, the sun had returned to somewhat sheepishly light Nicole’s way to the Italian garden where she had agreed to wait for a quick and clandestine pre-dinner meeting with Waverly.

Which sucked, because they wouldn’t even get half an hour before they would be missed in the dining room. Nicole found herself unbearably excited anyway, waiting for what might be her only opportunity to spend any alone time with Waverly that day.

Taking a seat on a thankfully dry stone bench, Nicole sighed as she stretched out and lay down. She allowed the heat of the sun to soak into her bones through her now well rumpled suit and lay still, for the first time in hours. 

Despite her tiredness, Nicole was in no danger of falling asleep. Her mind was whirling at a million miles an hour. Now she didn’t have the distraction of the tent, a flood of thoughts tumbled, one on top of the other. Should she be putting so much stock in Champs words? Was there any real point to keeping any of this a secret anymore? Did everyone know? There were still handprints on her ass so she was pretty sure everyone did.

_Oh god…_

Nicole draped her arms dramatically over her eyes, blocking the sun until the darkness behind her eyes tinged blue and sparkly all at once. Her mind was immediately filled with the image of Waverly talking animatedly in her kitchen about her blog with her face lit with joy and excitement. It was the same face she’d made when Waverly had told her about the book deal. 

_Waverly deserves it. She deserves everything..._

“Holy shit, girl! Mattie said you were objectively hot but, damn!”

Nicole cracked a single eye open and lifted an elbow as an unfamiliar voice shattered her reverie.

“I’m Mercedes. Mercedes Gardner. I kinda own this place.” The woman stood in a Sheryl Sandberg power pose, designer jacket in hot-pink wrapped tightly around a trim waist. Her arm outstretched to shake Nicole’s, held confidently aloft as if there were no scenario where Nicole wouldn’t rise from her seat just to shake it.

“Oh, um, hi? I guess?” Nicole dutifully stood and awkwardly shook Mercedes’ hand noting the way the woman was openly and shamelessly looking her up and down in appreciation. Nicole instantly ‘Nic’ named her (mercedes) which was a first for her. No one Nicole had ever met ended up with their actual name in her parenthetical placeholder and yet, Mercedes Gardner seemed shiny, ostentatious and quite probably as overpriced as any of the famous car manufacturers designs so maybe it fit her after all. 

“Hey, don’t be shy. I’m not going to grab your butt or anything.” Nicole hadn’t been worried about any such thing, but now she was. 

“I can’t afford _another_ harassment suit.” Mercedes spoke behind her hand like she was imparting a secret. “Unless you _want_ me to grab your butt? Give me a clear 10-4 and I’d be happy to take a ride in your squad car Office Haughtie…”

 _Oh god. Please stop._

“Um, no. No thank you Ms. Gardner. I’m not interested in… all… that. I’m sorry.” Nicole didn’t know why she was apologising to the woman. She’d basically just propositioned her three seconds after meeting.

“Oh are you sure? Because word in the tent is you’re available and I want to be clear.” Mercedes walked forward, absolutely invading Nicole’s personal space. “This isn’t a 10-40. This is a very definite 10-41.”

_Holy shit. Is she using police codes to hit on me?_

**_10.30! She’s using a battering ram to hit on you, Nicole!_ **

“Oh, uh well. I’m not. Available, that is. Sorry, this is a… a…” Nicole’s brain struggled to come up with any of the numerous police codes she had memorised.

“A ‘what’, gorgeous? Are you dating someone?”

“No…” Nicole defended, wrongly. “I mean yes, I’m seeing someone. A girl. A woman!”

“A girl-woman? Well. We've all been there am I right?”

“Uh, no. But she’s far, far away, utterly uninvolved in Bake off.” The knowledge that Nicole’s apparent date was long-distance only seemed to embolden Mercedes further. She reached up and put her hand on Nicole’s chest drawing herself into the final piece of space between them. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to look up my 10-87?”

“Holy shit, um… 10-72! 10-33!” 

The universe decided today was a good day to be a bitch.

As Nicole threw up her hands and tried to back away from Mercedes relentlessly bad flirting, a singularly angelic voice rose behind her in shock and anger.

“WHO _THE FUCK_ IS THIS?!

“Shit. Code 12: 10-67!” Nicole whispered to herself, freezing as Waverly appeared through the stone entry to the loggia.

“Get your plastic-fantastic, CEO Barbie hands off my girlfriend!”

“YES!” A voice yelled loudly from the bushes framing the Diké water fountain. “I fucking knew it!” Mattie stepped forward with a triumphant grin on her face. She stalked forward, offering a high-five to Mercedes who sported a similar arrogant grin.

“See Mattie? I told you I could break her.” 

“Excuse me?!” Waverly and Nicole spoke in tandem.

“Awww, look at the adorable angry lesbians. You know, you really are too cute!”

Nicole and Waverly looked at each other in bewilderment.

“Ok. What is happening?” Waverly asked as neither Mercedes, nor Mattie could contain their grins. “Because this looks a whole lot like outing people against their will to me.” She folded her arms, her face demanding an explanation from the pair as their wide grins dropped away quickly.

“Oh. I didn’t really think of it like that, um.” Mercedes fidgeted under the glares directed at her from both Waverly and Nicole. She was saved by an unperturbed Mattie.

“I arrived early this week because the weather looked bad for sailing. Mercedes was home from a business trip and we got to talking.” Mattie shrugged her shoulders as if the simple words explained the entire situation. When she fell silent, Mercedes darted her gaze between Mattie and the unimpressed pair before her.

“Yeah. Um, usually, I’m here from week one. I get to know all the bakers, show them ‘round the place, divert my douche-pecker of a brother from making a nuisance of himself, that sort of thing. But this year I had to go to …. To poorly defend him in his upskirt trial and now he’s in prison, so...Yay!” She raised her fists in a little dance of triumph.

“Please, will one of you get to the point!” Nicole rested her arm around Waverly’s shoulders in comfort. Her tone was nearing ‘angry mouse’ proportions.

“So I was so happy to be home. We talked all night long.” Nicole didn’t miss the subtle side-eye Mattie gave Mercedes at this and filed it away in the ‘things for possible revenge at a later date’ portion of her brain. 

“I begged all the gossip out of Mattie and boy I got it this year! Is there anyone here who’s not sleeping with someone from the show?”

Nicole furrowed her brow. Jeremy was with Robin and she was with Waverly. She was pretty sure Wynonna had already hooked up with Dolls and maybe even Doc before he left. From Mercedes’ perspective it probably looked like the plot of a bad soap opera was being filmed in her castle rather than a genteel television show about amateur bakers.

“Were you really trying to hide it from everyone? ‘Cos I gotta say, you’re both spectacularly bad at it. I mean, especially this one.” Mercedes gestured towards Nicole. “Nicole, you’re as soft as the leather on my thigh harness.”

“Me? I’m not the one who couldn’t go five minutes in the tent without performing a flour transplant to my ass!” Nicole shot Waverly a look that said ‘see? I told you this would happen’.

“No, you’re the one who can’t go five seconds without letting your heart-eyes wander around the room until they find Waverly. If you had a tail it would be constantly wagging like an excited puppy.” Mattie retorted, somewhat angrily. “So Mercedes and I came up with a plan to get you to admit it. The negative energy you’re throwing off by hiding is nauseating. And I’m tired of watching you eye-bang each other from across the room when I’m putting a significant amount of energy into being social.”

Mattie frowned like that’s not what she had intended to reveal.

“I’m… sorry. I don’t talk to many people in my normal life, but I like talking to you and Wynonna. Even Jeremy and… it was killing me that you didn’t feel like you could trust us with this.” 

“Oh.” Nicole replied, somewhat uselessly.

“But you’re right. We shouldn’t have forced your hand. It’s just… the two of you have been obvious since week one, and I don’t get why you’re even trying…” 

“Champ.” Nicole replied with a sigh, taking a seat back on the bench. She dropped her head into her hands for a brief moment, hoping that rubbing her eyes might somehow alleviate the pressure growing in her head, but all it did was aggravate the weird tingling in her arm, her nerve dancing in time to her elevated heart rate.

Waverly took a seat next to her. “It’s my fault…”

“No!” Nicole’s head shot up. She reached for Waverly’s face instinctively. “No, don’t ever say that. There is no ‘fault’ here, just circumstance.”

“What’s the Chump got to do with anything?” Mattie’s arms were still crossed, still throwing off a casual air of annoyance while Mercedes merely stood by waiting for the rest of the story.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it yet but I signed a book deal, and…” 

“You did? Huh. That’s really cool.” Mattie offered with a smile, her stance relaxing slightly.

“Kind of. Champ’s upset that I want to pass on a TV thing they want us both to do, so he threatened to out us and sink the book unless I agreed. I have to let the TV people know by next week.”

“Do you want to do it?”

“No.” Waverly’s response was quick and fervent. “I don’t want a TV career. I’ve got my own plans, but the book? I really, really, really want to do that.” 

“So, fuck Champ Hardy. He sounds like a real piece of work. I bet he’s hot. He’s hot isn’t he.” Mercedes weighed in. “Why are the hot ones such dickbags.”

“Nicole’s not a dickbag...” Waverly whispered. 

“Thank god. Although…” Nicole answered, waggling her eyes suggestively. Waverly thwacked her thigh before continuing. 

“I’m not going to. We already discussed it.” Waverly leaned into Nicole’s side. “All we can do is make sure there’s nothing for the lawyers to see when Champ makes his accusation.”

“Okay, well you guys have seriously failed in this. I mean, like, failed on the scale of the Titanic, Hindenburg, and New Coke all rolled into one.”

“What?”

“ _Everyone knows_ about you guys. Seriously. That’s why I’ve been so annoyed about it.” Mattie confessed. “Your commitment to keeping up the charade should be commended but you’re absolutely shit at it. It’s so obvious how you two feel about each other.”

“What should we do?” Nicole’s could feel the colour draining from her face. She knew there was a high risk of Dolls knowing, and maybe Jeremy and Nedley too, but they had been resolute in not pushing her, no longer asking her what was going on. But now? How in the hell was she going to be able to protect Waverly?

“Do? You don’t need to do anything.”

“But the contracts say...” Nicole’s excuses trailed away as she was cut off by a wave of Mercedes hand.

“Listen, I’ve done this show hoo-ha a few times now and the Gardener's don’t own half of Nanaimo because we inherited it. Well, I guess, technically, I did inherit it but this power suit isn’t just for show, you know?” Mercedes huffed at everyone’s confused looks. “The point is, I know the production peeps, who to talk to and who else has rather salacious secrets they want to keep. Leave it to me. Next week, Champ will not be a problem.”

“And I know exactly how to pay the fool back as well. My price will be steep.” Mattie proclaimed with a steel in her voice that was downright scary.

“Remind me never, ever to get on their bad side” Nicole whispered to Waverly, a note of awe in her voice as Waverly nodded in silent agreement.

“Alright, well, GPS is happy to be of service!” Mercedes happily proclaimed. “Consider us both your very own, personal ‘Gay Protection Service’.” Her tone changed slightly, becoming serious, her gaze holding both Waverly’s and Nicole’s in turn. “We’ve got your backs, bitches. You’re safe here. I swear it.”

Nicole believed it. Right down to her bones. 

They’d always been safe with their fellow bakers, particularly those who remained. Dolls, Jeremy and Nedley would all be there for them if they needed them. Wynonna had already proved her fiercely protective nature and now Mattie and a complete stranger with the power to put sentiment into action were offering their unconditional support.

“Thank you…” Nicole sagged with relief. “...it’s been so hard. Trying and failing to hold back.” 

Nicole raised her hand to tuck a stray piece of hair away behind Waverly’s ear, tidying away the loose strands unlike she could with life's more complex wisps. “Waverly, I hate hiding you. I hate hiding how I feel about you. I obviously _can’t_ hide how I feel about you.”

“Then don’t.”

Moving into her arms, Nicole leaned down to capture Waverly’s lips in a soft kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a soft kiss but she melted at the first touch of her lips. She may as well have sighed into it, as the weight of hiding her feelings melted away.

“Okay Mattie. Let’s leave these two love birds to 10-69 in peace.” Mercedes offered with a wink. “Here, take these.” She threw a set of keys in their general direction. Too wrapped up in each other, the pair didn’t notice until they jangled jarringly against Nicole’s arm brace and fell with a clatter to the flagstones of the garden. “So you can stop sitting around like a pair of useless dildos. Take the service lift to level four. Whenever you need some space and privacy head up there. It’s off limits to staff and that’s the only key other than mine.”

“I’ll let the cook know you’ll be late to dinner.” Mattie offered with a smirk. “Make sure you come up for air at some point.”

When neither Nicole nor Waverly moved, Mercedes made an exaggerated shoo gesture. 

“Go! Be gay. Mi casa es su casa. Enjoy the Crofte Memorial Playroom. And by enjoy, I do mean _enjoy_.” Mercedes finished her cryptic comment with an exaggerated wink and promptly walked away with Mattie, smirking with some kind of insider knowledge, following quickly behind.

“Okay. That was…”

“Yeah.”

“So… shall we…”

Waverly literally jumped off the bench to take the keys from the ground. She turned quickly, her hair flicking out as she grabbed at Nicole’s tie and easily pulled her up by it.

“Let’s go.”

(*´︶`*)╯♡

The kissing started in the lift. 

It continued as they stumbled into the single-roomed private gym revealed on level four, high in the tower of Crofte Castle, and didn’t stop until both women lay naked in an exhausted pile of each other's limbs, each satiated beyond words.

Lost in idle, languid caresses, Nicole felt peaceful. Content, despite the persistent and energy draining ache in her arm. A sense of total safety enveloped her as she cast her eyes around the curious room they had lost themselves in for longer than she cared to admit.

Nicole’s tie had ended up flung across the room and now hung loosely from one of the many hooks on the wall. Nicole could only assume they were for an as yet unpurchased set of weights or dumbells. Most of her suit lay in a crumpled heap against one of the three floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the jacket though, was carefully laid over a massage table in the corner. Waverly’s clothes had made wonderful makeshift pillows. 

Gazing out the faux arrow slit windows, Nicole watched the sky grow darker with more than just the last rays of the setting sun casting beams of bright red fire through the room. Clouds so dark they almost seemed blue eventually enveloped the splashes of colour, casting long thin shadows across the floor. She felt Waverly shift a little beside her, unable to suppress the shiver of goose pimpled flesh and the unconscious wiggle of her body backwards into Nicole’s warmer frame.

“I’m half sick of shadows.” Waverly spoke softly into the silent room.

“Hmmm?” Nicole asked in response. “Are you getting cold?” Nicole rolled slightly, enveloping Waverly more thoroughly in her arms to banish the chill. “Hungry too? Wanna go see if we can raid the kitchen?”

“Hmmmm” came her ‘not-so-secret-anymore’ girlfriend's response. “Later.”

She turned in Nicole’s arms and soon had her rolled back onto one of the many yoga mats spread across the polished floor. “I’m not ready to step into the real world yet.” Waverly admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders, rising to straddle Nicole, hands holding her back against the floor.

Nicole must have frowned at the words as Waverly hastily followed them. “Oh. Not that ‘out there’ is more real than here, or that this isn’t… real, I mean… Fudgenuggets!”

Nicole smiled at her babbling, reaching up with her good arm, hand gently touching Waverly’s face, calming her almost instantly. Waverly’s eyes stilled from their dance around the room, looking desperately for a handhold that she seemed to find in Nicole’s eyes. A safe harbour after being tossed on a stormy sea.

“Hey, It’s okay. I get it. I do.” Nicole watched Waverly’s face shine in response, accepting her gentle assurances like she was harvesting gold. “I really don’t wanna leave either.” Nicole felt her chest tighten, her breath leaving her body and not returning in the right and proper rhythm at the sight of her girlfriend, her Waverly, exuding such contented happiness in her presence.

“Waverly?” Nicole took in a stuttered breath and exhaled with words of truth that belonged to her soul.. “Waverly, I lo...”

“No, don’t...” Waverly darted her fingers out to Nicole’s mouth, stopping her mid sentence. “Don’t say it. Please.” 

And just like that, everything was wrong. 

Waverly’s eyes had grown round in panic, her words stuttered and stopped even though her mouth kept moving like she was hoping the right thing to say would just fall out like magic.

“Hey, it’s okay...” Nicole fell immediately into reassurance mode all the while her calm sense of safety lit up like a funeral pyre. 

_No, no, no, you idiot! Why did you say that! What were you thinking! Fix it!_

She sat up, pulling at Waverly in her lap, grateful the smaller woman didn’t try to escape her embrace. “If you’re not ready, I won’t say it. I can wait. I’ll always wait for you…”

“Oh god, I’m sorry, It’s just… that word…”

“Hey, shhhh. I promise it’s okay. It’s… too soon. _I’m_ sorry. We can talk later, okay. _If_ you want to. Only if you want to.”

Nicole realised she was shaking. Or was it Waverly? They locked eyes, each searching the other for reassurance, each knowing they had touched on something far too deep, far more serious than either was prepared to deal with. 

Waverly surged forward, kissing Nicole like she would die if she didn’t. It was all heat, and unrestrained desire, possessive and desperate. Nicole clung to Waverly equally as desperately, allowing her to take what she needed.

“Nicole…” Waverly managed to call in between the clash of teeth and tongue. “I want you. I ne.. need you. Please, please…”

“I’m yours.” Nicole promised in answer, hearing the desperation in Waverly’s words, even if she didn’t understand where they were or how they had gotten there with a simple almost declaration of the depth of her feelings. “Always.”

“Ahhhh!” Waverly’s head tipped back at the words, her hips canting forward searching for friction. Nicole obliged, moving her weaker arm and hand and just letting Waverly take what she needed as her stronger arm held her tightly onto her lap.

“Please, Nicole. I want to feel you forever.”

Again, Nicole obliged, slipping into wet, velvety heat with a shuddering sigh of her own. The desperation subsided as they each surrendered to feeling each other so close, so intimately. Waverly steadied, falling into a rhythm that helped calm Nicole’s heart rate down a Richter scale of thumping beats while still managing to rock her to her core.

Waverly’s soft panting became the only sound in the room until she lay her forehead against Nicole’s own, re-establishing a dangerous eye contact.

“Mine?” She whispered, hesitantly, seemingly ashamed of the question inherent in her pitch.

“Yes.” Nicole answered simply. With as much strength as she could muster. A single word. But it was a powerful one, spoken through her eyes deep into Waverly’s own. 

“Mine.” Waverly said again, more firmly this time, with purpose, almost aggression, as she allowed her teeth to mark Nicole’s shoulder. It felt like an acceptance of Nicole’s offer, an offer of ‘always’ she couldn’t yet speak aloud. 

“Mine…” Waverly whispered the word again and again as her hands explored Nicole’s body, as she took her pleasure on Nicole’s tired, aching hand. 

The litany trailed off into a plea. “Stay?” Waverly asked, her insecurities playing across her face for the second time that evening. Waverly allowed her own hand to sink between them, cupping Nicole’s sex. Tapping her fingers to ask a second, simultaneous question. 

Was it even possible to agree to one and not the other? If she was Waverly’s, was Waverly hers?

Again, Nicole spoke the most powerful, truthful word she was capable of.

“Yes.”

Soon, it was all she could say, a gatling gun response to Waverly’s claim to her, “Yes, yes, yes…” not so much spoken as breathed into existence on each stroke and flick of Waverly’s exploring fingers, tension building faster than it had any right to with just a few short strokes.

“Waverly? Waves, I… Oh, oh, uhhh! Fuck, Uhhh, UHHH! WAVE!”

Nicole felt her release quickly rise up on her before it plummeted, falling through her thighs to her knees before rocketing back up through her torso, hitting her brain last, becoming white noise flatlining coherent thought for moments or eons. Nicole couldn’t decide which.

_Did she come with me? Is she still with me?_

Nicole tried to look up, to look at Waverly and find out for herself but she was pinned, trapped in a desperate embrace and ringed with a curtain of soft brown hair.

All she could see was the reflection of two lovers in the mirror. Befuddled by endorphins and confusion, it took Nicole several seconds to realise she was looking at herself, completely wrapped in Waverly, whose arm was still clawing at Nicole’s back.

It took several more seconds to realise her cheeks were stained with tears. Unwelcome visitors from a realm of emotion Nicole felt no conscious connection to. They fell slowly, staining both sides of her face as she fought to regain her breath.

_What... happened? What was..?_

Lips followed the tracks carved by the tears, kissing the small droplets away before they could fall to the ground. Nicole hadn’t noticed Waverly unwrapping herself from her koala-like embrace, despite being unable to tear her eyes away from their odd reflection in the mirror.

“Waverly, I…”

“Shhhh.” Waverly replied. “Stay with me. I’m here.”

Nicole wrenched her gaze back to Waverly, desperate to look into her girlfriend’s eyes with her tear laden ones. Waverly’s own eyes held back their own pool, held in check by the barest hint of surface tension. Physics won out in the end, the tears falling on eye contact with her girlfriend. So Nicole returned the gesture, kissing away Waverly’s own small rivulets, cooling fast on hot, desert dry skin. Her lips tasted the salt in each tear, heavy with unspoken words.

“I’m yours.” Nicole whispered. “For as long as you want me, I will be by your side.” 

It wasn’t the L word, but it said the same damn thing. 

(╯︵╰,) ┌iii┐

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Wynonna lets the moderate wind whip her hair around her face for a moment before swiping it away in annoyance. She exaggerates with mimed quote marks while rolling her eyes at the Bulshar camera operator, all while holding a profiterole in the hand that isn’t trying to hold her hair away from her face.

 **WYNONNA  
** I ‘fudging’ hate desserts. Way, way, way too much sugar in ‘em. All that sweetness is so bad for you, it’s actually gross. Like those two...

She gestures behind her, causing the cameraperson to quickly zoom out to catch Waverly and Nicole in the far background grinning and laughing at something no one could hear. When the camera pans back to Wynonna it catches her mid-scowl, tongue aggressively pressed inside her cheek. 

So sweet it actually hurts my eyes. Anyway, who even likes Profiteroles?

Wynonna holds one up to the camera to emphasise her conversational u-turn before throwing it her mouth and holding up a second example. 

More like ‘profit rolls’ if you ask me. It’s just fancy pastry and cream. One bite and the cream just bursts right out! Give me a doughnut any day of the week over pointless creamy, sugary balls. Actually… back the truck up. I swiped these from Nedley’s table.

Wynonna stared incredulously at the two remaining profiteroles in her hand. She shouts out of frame. 

That is… More please?! Huh. Nedley makes excellent creamy balls. Seems very ‘on-brand’.

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐

**END OF SUMMER  
** **Shorty’s Bar, Purgatory  
** **THURSDAY** **NIGHT**

**_And the baker, leaving the tent this week, is…_ **

Nicole’s attention was riveted to the screen alongside half of Purgatory as the denouement to Dessert Week was broadcast through Shorty’s new big screen TV. She’d been kind of dreading this week’s broadcast. Not because she knew she’d have to watch it with half the town begging her for spoilers or that it was kicking off the world’s weirdest and least ‘surprise’ surprise baby shower ever. She hadn’t even been worried about the Lady Fingers jokes.

No. Nicole had been dreading the broadcast because Dessert Week reminded her how much she’d let her relationship with Waverly consume her, almost to the point of ignoring the problems of her other friends and fellow bakers. 

**_Xavier. I’m so sorry my lovely..._ **

To be fair, no one else had noticed Dolls’ struggling through the week either. They had found out later that he had aggravated his leg injury training for his new job. He had been pushing through the pain and discomfort but it affected his concentration enough that his profiteroles had failed abysmally. Although he wasn’t that much worse than Wynonna, he’d been selected to leave.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry too, Dolls.”

“Not doing this again Haught.” The man in question pursed his lips and leaned back in the booth they shared in the farthest corner from the TV screen Shorty’s had to offer.

"I just wish I had been more observant." 

“Nicole…” Dolls’ voice took on an air of warning. “I told you. I’m good at hiding things. You were _supposed_ to miss the signs. Besides, everyone missed them.”

Nicole sighed as the townsfolk set to murmering their combined disappointment and disagreement with the judges decision. More than a few disgusted looks were fired in Wynonna’s direction. Everyone had speculated that it was finally Wynonna’s week to go. From Nicole’s perspective, it looked like people had only agreed to come to the baby shower so they could watch Wynonna fail and it made her feel uncomfortable and a little less in love with the little town that had captured her heart.

“That’s right bitches! I survived until at _least_ week seven, so shove it up your baby piñata!” 

**_I was lost for so long after my service. But my buddies got me through that tough time so that I could be here, to meet so many great people. Reminds me what’s valuable in life, what we fight to protect and nurture. So no, it doesn’t bother me, leaving the tent this week. Sometimes you get and sometimes you get got. It’s my time._ **

“It wasn’t and you know it.” Nicole interrupted the broadcast. “You could’ve won the whole thing.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t. Wasn’t my fight.”

“It’s baking, not a war movie Dolls.”

“Sometimes felt like it though, depending on how close certain Earp women were to combustible materials.”

Nicole laughed as Wynonna approached the booth with Robin, Jeremy and Nedley in tow. Raising her head towards Dolls, Wynonna acknowledged his presence as if she hadn’t spent many of the past few weeks banging his brains out.

“Hey. Not the prick I was looking for but look who else I found peering through the saloon doors!”

The bakers shared handshakes and hugs, happy to see each other for the first time since the broadcast of Cake Week.

“God, we’re so late! Sorry we missed your big moment Dolls, but apparently Robin drives like a Nana riding a penny farthing.” Jeremy declared whilst simultaneously sliding an entire tray of shots onto the table in front of them. “But at least we made it for the baby shower!”

“Speaking of. Come on deputy dipshit. I made a party game just for you.”

“What do you mean ‘just for me’?”

“Because you will faaaaaail this game. I mean, you will fail it so hard and I want to see that failure almost as badly as the town a-holes wanted me to fail in surround sound today.”

“We need to do right by Dolls first.” Jeremy declared, holding his drink aloft. “TO DOLLS! The creator of the world’s worst profiterole croquembouche!”

“TO DOLLS!” The other bakers declared, quickly throwing back each of their shots in his honour.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but enough with the drinking. We have Baby shower party games to play, and you’re first Haught-knob.”

Wynonna pointed to a nearby wall, usually occupied by a dart board. Instead, a full-sized cardboard cut out of one of Champ’s underwear modelling shots had been pinned to it. His stupid arrogant smirk mocked Nicole from a distance as his thumbs hooked in his tight underpants, tugging suggestively downwards in a way that was supposed to be alluring in some way to straight people, apparently.

“Arrrrgh! How did I not see that before!” Nicole spoke through the hands that had flown up to cover her eyes.

Wynonna cackled a response “It’s called ‘Pin the Penis on Champ Hardy’ and you all get to play.” 

“Pin the penis on Champ Hardy…. Isn’t that just pinning Champ Hardy to Champ Hardy?” Nicole spoke as Wynonna up-ended a plain paper bag onto the table. 

A veritable pile of realistic cardboard penises tumbled out. Nicole stared in shock. 

_Where the fuck did Wynonna get a literal bag of dicks?_

Each one was different. Different colours, sizes and degrees of erectness. Wynonna had clearly spent a large amount of time developing the game.

“Dibs!” Jeremy shouted as he grabbed a specimen he clearly favoured, leaving Robin to blush profusely next to his boyfriend.

“Wy, I don’t wanna play’… No! I don’t wanna!”

“Fine. Then I’ll just send this…” Wynonna leaned over, her hand already holding her phone perfectly as she executed a stealth selfie while holding one of the penises to Nicole’s head like a gun. “...to all our Twitter followers.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“I would. I’ve already sent it to Waverly.”

“YOU WHAT!”

Robin broke their argument somewhat by asking “What’s the collective noun for a pile of... Penii? Penises?”

The table fell into silence contemplating the question before Nedley raised his glass, ice tinkling against the edges. He cleared his throat quietly and stated “...a bantum of cocks.”

“Oh my god. Bring me more peppermint shots.” Nicole rose from the booth, determined to get as far away from Wynonna’s bag of dicks as possible but Wynonna was too fast. Her baby belly prevented her from sitting in the booth properly so she was easily able to collar Nicole and pull her face to face, slapping a cardboard penis to her chest.

“Penis first. Drinks second.”

The pair aggressively held eye contact, each determined not to break. Wynonna’s eyes flashed in brief triumph when Nicole snatched at the cock with a huff before marching towards the cutout. “Fine.”

“Hey, hang on. You need to be blindfolded!”

“Trust me I am closing my eyes throughout this entire spectacle, Wynonna!” 

It had indeed become a spectacle. A hush fell over the bar. Somehow, she’d drawn the attention of everyone in the room as she stood before Champs clearly photoshopped abs. Bars are never silent and the combination of quiet with the smell of stale beer, too many bodies, bar snacks and broken baby piñata bits created a surreal atmosphere. 

She sneered at Champs stupid, gurning face and closed her eyes.

 _God, you’re such an asshole_.

Nicole heard the collective intake of breath as she made her move. The silence could not hold. Not with Wynonna in the room. 

“Fuck you Haught-hands! You’ve beaten the game before anyone else got to play!”

Nicole opened her eyes to inspect her handiwork. 

She had pinned the penis to his face.

╰⋃╯٩(`皿´҂)ง

“...becuz… he’s a dickhead. Get it? You get it, right?” Nicole leaned heavily on Jeremy as she tried to press her point home to Robin.

“Yeah, we get it Nicole.” He smiled patiently but his eyes were imploring Jeremy.

“...and we got it two hours ago when you did it. You need to take it easy, okay. I think Robin and I are going to head back to the Wainwright but can we stop by tomorrow? We need to sort out some deets for next week’s ‘Big Gay Dinner’, okay?” Jeremy gently pushed her back in the seat before following Robin out of the booth.

“Gayyyy. Yup, ssssounds…” Nicole didn’t finish the sentence, just raised her thumbs in acknowledgement. “Oh, wait! Tha’s BeeGeeDee with added ‘Nonna, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I figured you’d both stay with us?”

“Yeah, but don’ let Wynonna cook in the kitchen ‘kay? Wewwy impotent. Wewwwy. Tell me you won’t let her!” Nicole had grabbed his arm, desperation in her drunken eyes.

“Okay then. The rumours are true. You’re a handsy drunk and I need to go now. You gonna be okay? Is Wynonna going to take you home?”

Nicole scoffed at his concern. “Nah, she left aaaages ago. Banging Doc… Dolls? Huh. Maybe both? Upstairs, pro’lly” She waved her finger in the general direction of the upstairs apartments Waverly told her about.

“Well then, I think it might be up to me.” Nedley’s droll voice drifted into earshot as he returned from the bar. “Come on Nicole. Baby Shower’s over.”

“Whaa? No way! Imma hawing fun, Dad… Nad... Neddle? Nedley.” Nicole finished, eyes wide with relief at finally pronouncing his name correctly.

“Go home Deputy. That’s a Capital ‘O’ Order, you hear me?”

Nicole leaned around Nedley’s body, looking towards the bar. Her boss, Sheriff Anthony, was staring her down, but not unkindly. He pointed towards the door with a small smile on his face, but his instruction was clear as day no matter how drunk Nicole was.

“Ooooh ‘kay. Yup. I’m going, Sir.” Nicole yelled back, far too loudly before falling into a whisper as she stared at the floor. “Oh. Shit.”

“Nicole?” Nedley knelt down to look Nicole in the eye. “What’s wrong.”

“I losss my feet. Again. How ‘ma gonna get home?”

Nedley sighed, hauling her up with an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, Nicole. I’m sure you’ll find your feet in the morning.”

“You p’omise?” Nicole looked to him with pleading, unsure eyes.

“No.” Nedley replied with honesty, concern passing over his face. “I guess I can’t promise that. But I can hope.”

“Good ‘nuf.” Nicole sighed. “T’ank you.”

They drove to Nicole’s house in silence but Nicole wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t notice how often Nedley’s eyes darted between the road and Nicole, slumped into the door of the passenger seat.

She felt tears prickle her eyes as he carefully assisted her to the door, sat her on the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.

Drink had never made her melancholy before, but something about the Bake Off experience seemed to lead her there more often than not these days. 

_Maybe it’s because I have more people in my life now? What do you reckon, Mom?_

But her Mom didn’t reply.

She’d been silent for weeks now. Her continued silence baffled and concerned Nicole in equal measure. She had so many important people now. Wynonna. Nedley. Jeremy. 

Waverly.

And yet, her mother’s silence meant she often felt alone. No. Not alone. Disconnected. Disconnected from her past with no thread, or line dangling down from the future to show her the way.

“Damn cat ran away as soon as she saw me.” Nedley huffed in annoyance as he returned to the living room. “I left food in her bowl and I… Well, I thought she might like these now she’s not living up at the Homestead anymore.” Nedley spoke gruffly, placing a handful of catnip toy mice on her coffee table.

“Awwww. You wuv Ca’mity, admiddit” Nicole smiled at the face Nedley pulled, trying to deny the most obvious truth Nicole knew in the universe.

“ I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“You wuv her, Nedley!”

“No, I don’t”

“Yeah, you…”

“How’s Waverly?” Nedley’s swift interjection to throw the subject off stabbed Nicole right in the heart.

“Uhhhhhhh, I… don’t know?”

Nedley frowned, clearly not realising the subject would be hurtful. “Nicole?”

“She still on dat wrrrriter r’treat so I don’ really know how she is. I had a message from ‘er once though. I jus’ haff ta wait. I guess I’m waiting ‘til she’s aaaall done.”

“Oh, well that’s...”

“Yeah. Uh, t’anks for the lift Nedley. I think I jus’ need ta sleep now.” Her tone brooked no argument. She was done with the conversation and with company.

“Okay, well. Do you need anything?”

“Nope. I’m goo’.” Nicole lay down on her couch, pulling the blanket off the back to cover her legs. “Maybe I’ll see you t’morrow?”

“No, I’m heading out on the dawn train, but I’ll be back soon. We can catch up later though. Properly, okay? Don’t you make me make Anthony order you. He’s an old friend you know. I can arrange things.” He smiled, but the concern had not left his face. It warmed Nicole even as it stoked her shame.

“Issokay, Nedley. I’m okay. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight Nicole. Take care?”

“Awwways.”

Nicole waited until the sound of the engine had long faded down the road before flipping the blanket off dramatically. She knew she was nowhere near sleep, or done drinking.

“This is da bit where ya interject and try to ‘barrass me with some flippy comment about making him officially my step-da’, right? Mom? Still giving me the silent treatment? You suck, you know that?”

She shouted into her fridge as she retrieved a beer like there was no one around to hear her brand of crazy coming out. Because there wasn’t anyone to hear it. And no one to stop her downing most of the bottle in one go. No Shae, No Wynonna and certainly no Waverly.

“This fuckin sucks! First you wouldna leave, then you did and _then_ ya came back only to leave again?”

Back in the lounge, Nicole stared at the hole her Mother’s Pineapple urn would’ve sat in if she hadn’t dropped it in the motherfucking sea.

“Fucki’, fucki’, stupid universe. STOP TAKING AWAY THE PEOP’E I WUV!”

She cursed the sky dramatically, raising the bottle in the air. Or at least she tried but the bottle slipped out and hit the floor instead.

“Oh, shiii… Ca’mity! Stay away! I gotta clean this mess up! Oh. Isssh all good. I just dropped it. Not broken. Yayyy! Also… I gotta pee! Be right back!”

Nicole stumbled into the bathroom and managed to coordinate getting her pants down and ass on the seat in the right order to conduct her business. 

_‘nother win for the evenin’. I’m winnin’. I’m smart._

Her pants had made a loud ‘kerthunk’ as they’d hit the floor, baffling Nicole as Wynonna had dumped her phone in a pitcher of beer earlier in the evening when she’d threatened to drunk text Waverly.

“You can’t do that Haught-potato. Not while you’re this drunk.” Wynonna had reasoned. But when she’d insisted, Wynonna had once again been too fast and the phone was now beer-logged and lost somewhere in Shorty’s.

 _Pro’lly for the best_ …

She lifted the pants as she sat, allowing the thunk, thunk noise to continue. Something was still hitting the floor. 

_Sounds like phone. IS PHONE! MY PHONE! Wynonna dumped her own phone!_

But her laughter fell hollow, reverberating round the small bathroom but not inside her head, matched with her mom’s. She was still silent.

Feeling the tears creep up on her again, Nicole sought distraction. Something quick and easy to occupy her hands and her mind.

She reached for the phone and opened up her long dormant message stream with Waverly. She let her thumb hover over the tiny microphone symbol. “I could sen’ her a woice message. Let her know I’m thinkin’ ‘bout her. It’s her bir’day soon, didja know dat Ca’mity? ‘Cos I did.”

_Heeeey, Mom? Thisssa bad idea, innit?_

_Nothin’ ta say?_

_Not gonna stop me?_

_Well, fine then!_

The resounding silence made her decision for her. She let her thumb drop and hold down the icon to begin recording her drunken confessions.

“Heeeeey Baby! I miss you so much. I hope your boooook is good and people are nice.” 

She let her thumb go and watched as the app symbols wibbled and bopped indicating the voice message was being sent. 

…’ ’ ’... 

Calamity chose that moment to make her presence felt, entering the small room and winding her way through Nicole’s bare legs. Back and forwards, rubbing her face on Nicoles’s calves staking claim to her human, before turning three times and settling in the crotch of her trousers, still pooled on the floor around Nicole’s ankles.

“Hey, guess what Waywewy? Ca’mity’s sitting in my pants! On the floor and… Oh, you remember da lass time m’ pants ended up on the floor? Huh, ‘at was a greeeeeat night, you ‘member baby? God I miss you.”

…’ ’ ’...

She let her thumb go again, watching the dance a second time.

✔️

Message delivered but not read.

“Uhhhhhhh, I miss you in my bed…”

…’ ’ ’...

“My arm is sooooooo much better! You wouldna BELIEVE what I can do wiv it now!” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Makes me think… o’ that ooooold song. Romantic. You know the one. Howsit go again?”

…’ ’ ’...

“I need some love like I never needed love before. Wanna make love to ya baby. I had a little love, now I'm back for more. Wanna make love to ya baby… I set your spirit free…’ Wait. Then it goes... ‘‘Cos tonight is the niiiiiiight, when…’” 

…’ ’ ’...

Nicole didn’t finish the lyric. Her lidded gaze had caught itself in the mirror like an elderly fish too worn down by the world to bother struggling on an angler's hook. As she stared at herself, she instead clumsily threw a ‘2 become 1’ hand gesture at her reflection.

Suddenly disgusted with the sight of herself, Nicole sank to her knees, startling an indignant Calamity Jane from her warm makeshift bed. She slowly leant forward until her cheek was resting on the cool tiled surface on the floor. With head down and bare ass in the air, Nicole finally felt comfortable enough for the first hints of sleep to pull at her drunken consciousness.

“Your hair. Was so tickly.” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Oh, and nice! I loved your hair baby. Wynonna’s hair is scratchy an’ ‘er blankets smell of whisky.” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Oooops. I said the banned word. The naughty word. Shhhhh. _You can keep a secret, right_?”

…’ ’ ’...

“Why did you go?” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Why did you leave me?” 

…’ ’ ’...

“You were my forever girl.” 

…’ ’ ’...

“I was gon’ love you forever.”

…’ ’ ’...

“And you never talked about it, you know? You would’na let me say it and then you just… never mentioned it again and, fuck Wawerrrry. Dat hurt me so much. I loved you so fuckin’ much. Too much, too fast… too… Haught…”

…’ ’ ’...

“I **_loved_ ** you.”

…’ ’ ’...

“I’ma say it orer and orer again, ‘cos I weally, weally, weally, weally, weally, weally, weally, weally, loved you Wawery Earp. I loved you more than I ever loved ANYONE!”

…’ ’ ’...

“I. Loved. You.”

…’ ’ ’...

“My sunshine.” 

…’ ’ ’...

“When do I ge’ ta say sorry?” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Will ya tell me why I couldn’t talk it out with ya? Why ya went in da middle o’ the night? ‘Cos I said I was yours till ya didn’t want me no more so, I guess…"

…’ ’ ’...

“Am I still yours, Wawerry? Do ya still wan’ me? Were you errer mine?”

…’ ’ ’...

“I think I’m gon be sick now baby."

…’ ’ ’...

"Can you come hold my hair?” 

…’ ’ ’...

“Oh, shoot. Nerrrer mind.” 

…’ ’ ’...

“I think, maaaaaybe, I should sleep now but, oh. Somethin’ impor’ant. I needs ta tell ya...”

…’ ’ ’...

Nicole waited for the ‘very important thought’ to come back to her. 

She was staring at it from her new most comfortable place in the whole world on the floor of her bathroom, but the word wouldn’t come so she just allowed her body to relax and waited for it to come back to her.

  
  
  
  
  
  


...and waited…

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


...until eventually...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Baby?”

…’ ’ ’...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I still have your hairdryer.” 

  
  


…’ ’ ’...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


✔️✔️

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say the angst was written in Crayon in the tags. It's not my fault. Besides, eating too much sugar will make you sick. Much like reading too much of this chapter. Go have a glass of water or something. This has been an obvious public health notification from @PlanetHunterao3 on Twitter.


	8. She Thinks I Still Caribou Stew (By George Johnny Cakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicole pig-headedly struggles with an important week and the promised gratuitous overuse of pineapples begins in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it people. The chapter that made it into the tags on day one - the saddest thing I've ever written. I somehow managed to time this so it's going out in election week so you might want to take a Bake Off hiatus. But, there are also funny bits. Involving fire. And Firemen. And pineapples. Also features the return of tease!waverly so, maybe you should read it this week after all?
> 
> Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of anxiety/panic attacks and the death of OC Natalie Haught. Flashbacks are marked by this chapter break pattern ******* ******* ******* Nicole’s reactions are sprinkled throughout and can’t really be marked other than letting you know they’re there.
> 
> I’m genuinely sorry. 
> 
> 😬

“

 _But if she's happy thinking I still need her  
_ _Then let that silly notion bring her cheer  
_ _But how could she ever be so foolish  
_ _Oh where would she get such an idea  
_ _Just because I asked a friend about her  
_ _Just because I spoke her name somewhere  
_ _Just because I saw her then went all to pieces  
_ _She thinks I still care_

“

**VEGAN WEEK**

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT.  
** Sat in her traditional interview spot, Waverly jiggles up and down excitedly, clapping her hands together super fast. The camera pans to show Wynonna is with her, sitting on the same stone wall but decidedly less enthused. Her arms, encased in her customary leather jacket despite the sun, are folded in indifference.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Overly excited)  
I’m so excited! Ohhh, I might actually squeee! Can I make a squee noise? Squeeee!

 **WYNONNA  
** (Incensed, making side-eyes at Waverly next to her)  
Can you believe I have to eat vegan bacon? In my own damn house?

 **CUT.  
** Leaning indifferently on a tree, Mattie fidgets with the ends of her hair, the only indication she’s not feeling as confident as she sounds.

 **MATTIE  
** (Decidedly unexcited)  
I am a carnivore. I eat meat, I eat eggs, and I drink milk. You will pry honey out of my cold dead hands. So, of _course_ I’ve been looking forward to vegan week, what are you talking about?

 **CUT.  
** Nedley pauses, a frown evident on his face as the strong breeze outside the tent flicks at his hair.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Deapan)  
Aquafaba? Is that a Pokemon?

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**BEGINNING OF SUMMER  
** **Nicole’s apartment in Vancouver  
** **Week prior to filming Vegan week  
** **MORNING**

“So you’re really going to do it. You’re moving to the boonies?”

Shae’s voice took on a tone of incredulity that Nicole was more than familiar with. She sighed as she sat next to her ex wife on their old couch, already regretting having invited her around despite knowing there was no one else she could have called. Not this week. Not for this.

Nicole had always felt the sound of her ex-wife’s disbelief like a cut. She knew Shae never intended anything by it, but that never stopped the sound from wounding her like ice shards piercing a heart made of jelly. It was the undercurrent of disbelief that always seemed to do it. Like it never mattered how Nicole responded because Shae had already made up her mind not to believe or care. But this time, there was no cold stab to Nicole’s chest. The heavy note of judgement borne by the tone had lost any power it once had over her feelings. It was now simply a dull thud against her chest that bounced away into nothing. 

“I love Purgatory. It’s small and everyone knows everyone. It's like Gizmos place and it really feels like I could make a difference over there and be part of something bigger. Which, I know, _sounds_ weird, but a small town community? A small town life? That just really appeals to me. I want to settle down, to have a sense of purpose. As soon as I thought of it, that’s what moving to Purgatory gave me.”

“Nothing to do with a small brunette?” Shae teased, her tone now replaced with a lightness that pushed a wave of relief through Nicole’s chest. She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Well, that certainly helps.” Nicole smiled bashfully. “So long as the transfer is approved, then yeah. As soon as the show’s done and I’m cleared for active duty, I’m heading up there. I can rent a place for a while… until, um. Well, we’ll see what happens when I get there.”

“So, you’re ready? I mean, ready to leave this place?” Shae gestured around Nicole’s apartment, her tone again changing, this time it held notes of caring and support to immediately countermanding any sense of judgement Nicole had sensed from her just seconds before. 

It had always been like this.

Shae’s fluctuating ‘Nic’ names had always confused and enticed Nicole in equal measure, because Shae had never been just one parenthetical thing to her. Shae so often transitioned from (judgemental) into (caring) and (supportive) and back again, Nicole found it difficult to step out of the cycle, always forgiving any insult, real or imagined. Shae had always been able to draw her back with a warm word, an understanding question. That, it seemed, had not changed.

“Yes. I am. I was ready when I suggested we sell this place. I’m…” Nicole found her gaze moving around the apartment she had shared, first with her mother and then with her wife. It settled on the empty spot in the book case where her Mom’s Pineapple urn should have been resting and Nicole felt her voice stutter and die out.

Noting the direction of her gaze, Shae reached out and held Nicole’s hand tightly in her own. She said nothing as Nicole worked to blink back the tears that had punched their way to the surface of her face. Shae just held her hand and waited, knowing to let the silence in. The silence that Nicole needed as she sorted through the rush of thoughts and memories her simple question let through the catflap in her mind. 

******* ******* *******

**TWO YEARS PRIOR**

**_NICOLE RAYLEIGH FUCKING HAUGHT!_ **

Nicole froze in fright, locked in a half bent over position, luggage almost ready to drop to the floor. She had been home for less than thirty seconds but suddenly, the voice of her dead mother rang out through the apartment as clear as if she was standing in front of her bookcase. 

Or was it just inside Nicole’s skull?

Her eyes flicked up immediately to the Pineapple urn sitting in the middle shelf as she slowly dropped the luggage to the floor and walked over with a calmness she didn’t really feel. A silent internal debate raged, trying to decide the exact moment she’d gone mad. Was it when she’d heard her mother shout her full name, or when she’d chosen to reply and have a full-on argument with her mother who had been dead for a whole year.

_M… Mom? Is that you?_

**_Yes it’s me, you insane well-manicured carrot! I live in you now so get used to having my opinions all up in your shit! Starting with, ‘Why the FUCK did you marry that woman?!’_ **

_Shae’s the woman I love..._

**_You fucking don’t. You’re twenty-four years old!_ **

_The same age as Gizmo!_

**_Marrying young was acceptable in 1973 Nicole, not in 2016!_ **

_You told me you wanted to see me happy and… and settled, and Shae was there for me Mom, all through your anniversary, and…_

**_Are you SERIOUSLY trying to tell me that this is MY FAULT?_ **

_You put it on your bucket list, Mom..._

**_I DID NOT put ‘marry Shae’ on my bucket list. How DARE you!_ **

_How dare I? I’ve been talking to this ridiculous thing for a year and I’ve never heard you talk back. Where have you been? Is this even real?_

**_I don’t know ‘Cole. This is your breakdown. I don’t get the script before you do. Why do you think I’m here? What’s changed? Other than, you know, THE FUCKING OBVIOUS RING ON YOUR FINGER!_ **

“Okay. Ohhhhkay.” Nicole rubbed her eyes with the balls of her thumbs. “I’ve gone nuts. It’s official.”

“What’s official babe?” Shae breezed into the apartment, dropping the keys for her convertible in the glass bowl by the door.

“Shit.” Nicole whispered before turning abruptly to face her new wife. “Oh, nothing Shae. Hey, you wanna go out to dinner?”

“Babe, we _just_ got home. What’s got into you?” Shae looked past Nicole to the bookcase and frowned. “Were you talking to your Mom again” A stern look came over her new wife’s face. 

“What? No. I was thinking about her though, but the moment’s passed…” 

**_Yes, on no account can ‘the woman you love’ see the real you._ **

_Shut it Mom!_

**_I will NOT. You’re stuck with me ‘Cole-’Cole._ **

_Excellent. Just, great._

Nicole smiled unconvincingly at her wife, willing her Mom to quieten the fuck down while also hoping desperately that the sound of her voice would never, ever fade. Judging by the particular way Shae folded her arms and peered over a pair of non existent glasses, Nicole had sufficiently failed at schooling her face. 

_I missed you._

**_Missed you too._ **

The newly married pair stared unblinkingly at each other across the living room. Shae, wide eyed and skeptical. Nicole, unsure yet elated, but also somehow ashamed. Like she’d been caught with her hand in the Universe’s cookie jar after furiously denying its existence.

Nicole blinked first.

******* ******* *******

 **PRESENT DAY  
** **Nicole’s apartment in Vancouver  
** **MORNING**

Nicole blinked, and blinked and blinked, determined not to let the tears fall as she stared openly at the space her mother’s urn used to occupy. Her tears weren’t for Shae to witness. Not any more.

_Who are they for, Mom? Me? You?_

_Waverly?_

_Mom? Where did you go? Talk to me dammit!_

Her mom stayed resolutely silent. Like she had for the last few days. Usually, Nicole had the urn to ground her. She could hold it and talk to it about her day and then put it back on the shelf.

But not this year. 

Not after the ferry. 

Not after _Waverly..._

Waverly wasn’t here. Instead, she was sitting in the apartment she had once shared with her mother, holding the hand of her ex-wife while staring at the empty place her mother’s urn had occupied. 

Her mother’s silence made her feel a loneliness she felt down to her bones. Waverly’s absence in this moment made Nicole miss her with a fierceness that made her breath catch in her throat.

So the tears came anyway. 

Because Shae was a stranger to her. 

Because the comforting voice of her mother had fallen silent.

Because Waverly wouldn’t let her say the words she felt in her bone marrow.

Unbidden and unwanted, the tears fell with great, ragged gasps of air. 

It wasn’t cathartic. 

Nicole felt no lessening of emotion, no release. The more she cried, the worse she felt. The worse she felt, the more she cried. Through it all, Shae sat. Where before, she would have held Nicole tightly and whispered sweet calming nothings, now she merely held her hand and waited for it to pass. 

Eventually, the ragged sobs stilled, and Nicole consciously drew away from Shae. She occupied her hand with tissues, wiping at the mess on her face until she felt like it might actually resemble a face again.

“Fuck.” It was the only word she could think of to say. Until she remembered Shae’s question, still hanging in the drawn out silence between them.

“Despite what that might look like…” She gestured towards the ski slope of tissues now decorating the coffee table. “I am ready to move on Shae. I’m really, really ready. I want to live for me. For my future. Not my past.”

She chanced a look at her ex-wife and saw only disbelief reflected back at her.

_This is why we were never going to work. She never believed in me..._

“Uh huh. A noble sentiment, living for the future…” The disbelief remained on her face, but Shae’s eyes sharpened in that way that told Nicole that she was going to hate whatever she said next. 

“So tell me. Why isn’t Waverly here?”

“Jesus, Shae. Do you want to see how much more snot I’m capable of producing?”

“Tell me. Why can’t Waverly see this? You want to live for the future but I’m the one sitting here with you. Nikki, I’m really worried about this.” She pointed up at the hole on the bookshelf, drawing Nicole’s eyes to the absence, but this time, she looked quickly away as the traitorous prickle of tears reformed in the corners of her eyes. 

“Have you been talking to your Mom again ‘cos I really think you need to talk to someone if you are…”

“No, Shae! God, you never really got it did you. I know she’s gone, I know the conversations I have in my head aren’t real. I’m not bonkers, I don’t need a shrink, and… I don’t need you to tell me… I… I don’t need you Shae. I just don’t…”

“Then why did you call me? We agreed not to fall into each other at anniversary time, and yeah, last week was tough remembering Dad and not talking to you about it, but I thought… I thought you would be fine, because you’ve got…” Shae sighed, looking away as her words trailed away. Nicole knew exactly what she was going to ask, and she felt sick. 

“Why didn’t you call Waverly?”

“I… I love her.”

_I need to protect her..._

“You LOVE her? What kind of an answer is that? How can you possibly love her? You’ve known her for what? A month?”

“Forty days, Shae. One hundred and two since the day I first saw her, and she’s… so special. Like sunshine on a grey, smoggy morning and… and it’s all so new, and I don’t know if she feels the same way about me so…”

_I need to protect her… I need to protect us..._

“It can wait. All my baggage can wait.”

“Until when?”

“Until she’s ready.”

“And if she never is?”

The silence that drew out between them, as Shae, ever incisive, cutting and direct, laid bare the heart of Nicole’s anxiety.

It felt like all the oxygen had left the room, and all that was left was well used tissues and a chill that had both women withdrawing into themselves, arms folded away in protective and warming self-hugs.

So, the Universe obviously felt it was the right time to intervene.

Nicole’s phone burst to life on the coffee table, making both women jump as the opening riff of Cream’s _Sunshine of My Love_ blared loudly into the stiflingly quiet room. Shae rolled her eyes as she guessed immediately who was calling. She reached over, grabbing the phone before throwinging it a little too hard into Nicole’s lap.

“ _Cream?_ Really?” Shae mouthed at her as Nicole hastily answered.

“Hey baby! I was hoping you’d call today!” Nicole spoke overly brightly, as a shield against the frown etched on her ex’s face. Her attention was soon drawn away by the too quiet voice of her girlfriend whispering with an unexpected urgency.

 _“Nicole? Baby, I know you wanted to be home this week to sort out your physio and work stuff but for the love of all that is holy can I PLEASE come and stay with you?”_

Guilt sank low in the pit of Nicole’s stomach with a heavy side order of trepidation. She had deliberately sought some distance this week in order to sort out what she would have to do to enact a transfer to Goat River County and to reset her physio appointments, but they weren’t the only reasons she’d declined Waverly’s offer to return to the Homestead for another week. Now she was explicitly asking, how could Nicole deny Waverly anything?

Her eyes flicked involuntarily to Shae, her guilt redoubling.

“Of course baby! You know you don’t have to ask. I mean, we’ve got a lot of stuff on, but…” Nicole was quickly and loudly interrupted by Waverly’s insistent whisper.

_“Does your stuff involve listening to a pregnant woman’s mid-coitus moaning? Because I have to LISTEN TO A PREGNANT WOMAN’S MID-COITUS MOANING!”_

Waverly must have held her end of the phone away towards Wynonna’s door as all Nicole could hear next was the muffled sound of her friend’s heavily panting voice. Then she heard things no person should ever have to hear.

“ _Harder, dammit I’m not lace doilly! Yeah, that’s it! Right_ **_there_ ** _Dolls! You can keep my wicket, yeah. Throw down those stumps!”_

“What does that even mean?”

 _“I don’t know, Nicole! I don’t_ **_want_ ** _to know either and I’m really, really worried I’m going to find out if I stay here much longer. Do you know how many nights I’ve_ not _slept in my own home? THREE!”_

A loud scream overtook the sound of Waverly’s voice before Doll’s voice joined in on the act. 

_“Yeah, like that, uh, you like a fast delivery but what about my googly babe, yeah.”_

_“OhmygodpleasemakeitSTOP!”_

“Baby, leave now. Get on a train and get your beautiful self here right now.” 

_“Oh thank god, thankyouthankyouthankyou, ‘kay Im leaving now. I’m leaving...wait. You said ‘We’. Have you got guests? Am I imposing?”_

_Shit_

“No! I, um, I’ve got Shae here, uh…”

_“Shae? Really?”_

“Uh, yeah. We’re signing the final divorce papers today, having a drink, you know. Kind of a ‘no hard feelings’ thing.” Nicole had started pacing around the room nervously, her face pulled into a grimace as she tried to navigate the tricky waters of her girlfriend’s obvious discomfort on the phone whilst being unable to avoid the look of anger on her ex-wife’s face sitting on her couch in front of her. “She was just leaving actually.”

_“Oh, right. Of course.”_

“You okay, baby? I’m sorry, I…”

_“Nicole, it’s fine. It’s okay that you see your ex. Jeez, I’m not a jealous girlfriend.”_

“Are ya sure ‘cos…”

 _“No, you’re right, I_ can _be a jealous girlfriend but I’m not jealous of her, okay? I know you have things to sort out, and oh. Oh God.”_

“Waverly? What’s wrong?” Nicole heard nothing for a few seconds, just a few quick, shuffled footsteps and then the sound of a door slamming. The shuffling turned to determined steps scrunching of gravel.

_“Nicole. I just heard Wynonna demand to be hit for multiple sixes and I am out the door. I’ll see you soon baby.”_

Nicole removed the phone from her ear in bewilderment as Waverly hastily hung up. 

“That was Waverly.” Nicole said needlessly, looking up to catch a blazing fire of anger in her ex’s eyes.

“You haven’t told her.” Shae accused. “Now I get why she’s not here. You haven’t even told her.”

“Told her what?” 

“Come on Nicole! You claim you love her…” 

“I DO love her!” Nicole retorted, responding to Shae’s anger in kind, a repeat performance of so many of their marital rows that Nicole felt like she’d walked in on a Twilight Zone episode or groundhog day.

“No, you claim to love her but you haven’t even told her what this week is? Jesus, you just lied to her face about why I’m here!”

“Shae…”

“No. We’re divorced, and I want to be some kind of friend to you, so you will NOT say my name in that stupid ‘I haven’t got time for this’ condecending tone. Why haven’t you told the woman you claim to love that this week marks the third anniversary of your Mother’s death?”

_I need to protect her… I need to protect us…_

“I… I… don’t know.”

******* ******* *******

**THREE YEARS PRIOR  
** **Funeral Home**

“I don’t know, Mom. Do we really have to do this?” 

Nicole could feel her whole body moving in time with the roll of her eyes as she looked across the showroom of the funeral parlour at her excitedly browsing mother.

“Yes.” Her mom deadpanned before her excited tone was back in full force. “Oh! Look at this one!” Natalie shouted clear across the room to her reluctant shopping companion. “It looks exactly like the one in the show! ‘Like sands through an hourglass…’” Natalie intoned in a deeper, serious voice. “‘These are the Days of our Lives.’” She finished the opening to the classic soap opera before cracking up. 

Laughter was a very odd sound to hear in a funeral parlour. 

“You could use my ashes as an elaborate egg timer!” Natalie held up the large, old fashioned hourglass like she’d just found a puppy.

Nicole wasn’t feeling very amused. Her arms folded even more tightly over her chest, as she hunched over in a bid to avoid eye contact with her Mom.

_Why are we here?_

_Why do_ I _have to be here?_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

_Thank you universe!_

Nicole grabbed at her phone, a smile creeping up the side of her face as she read Shae’s incoming text message.

"Who’s that?” Natalie called as she pulled the ornate lid off a more traditional looking urn with a look of bored disinterest.

“No one…” Nicole didn’t get the chance to finish her deflection.

“Is that the chick you met at hospice orientation? Shelly, or something, right?”

Nicole flicked a warning glance up at her mother “You know her name is Shae, Mom. You’ve met her. Twice.”

“Well, tell whats-her-name I’m glad she’s not here and I think you’re too good for her.” Natalie intoned like she’d actually just asked to say ‘Hi’.

“Mom, come on..." 

“‘Cole, who you see is your business. It’s fine, but thank-you for not bringing her for this. That woman’s sense of whimsy is attached to the end of the stick up her ass and I wanna have some fun."

“This isn’t fun Mom…” Nicole mumbled back as she typed a quick reply, setting up what she hoped would be a hot, heavy and entirely distracting date for later in the evening.

“What’s not fun! I’m having a great time. Loosen up Nicole.” Natalie’s accusatory tone only made Nicole feel angrier.

 _Who the hell_ shops _for their own funerary urn!_

Sighing like a teenager, Nicole returned her phone to her pocket and tried to look vaguely interested. She let her eyes gaze across the room looking at anything and everything that wasn’t the quietly mourning family in the corner shooting weird looks at her mom, or the actual urns and headstones on display on every available surface. 

Eventually, there was nothing to look at other than her mother, still excitedly moving around the room, lifting and shaking the urns, appraising them like their weight or overall build quality could somehow make the process of finding her own ‘final resting place’ as easy as buying an antique.

Natalie Haught was shorter than her daughter, shorter even than her own mother, a fact that still bewildered Nicole to this day. She seemed like a genetic throwback who somehow skipped the tall’n’ginger Haught gene in favour of greying brown hair that curled away behind her ears in a short almost pixie-cut fixed to a shorter, yet somehow also willowy frame. 

_How is she sick? She’s the same as she ever was. How is any of this even real?_

An expression must’ve passed over her face for a moment, because when she caught her mother’s normally doleful brown eyes, the only part of her that exactly matched her daughter, she saw them spitting fire and a determination Nicole had rarely seen pointed in her direction.

Natalie caught and held her daughters stare as she slowly raised another urn into their eye line.

“This. This is the one.” Natalie intoned with a deadly seriousness. She was holding a brass pineapple.

“Mom. No…”

“Nicole. Yes. I am buying this urn. For that creepy 12 year-old mortician to pour the ashes of my dead body into.”

“You can’t…”

“I’m gonna.”

“But surely not a …”

“Yuh-huh. This is the one.”

By this point in the argument, the two women had stalked towards each other, oblivious to the attention they drew to themselves.

Nicole reached out and snatched the pineapple urn with an air of disgust. “No. No way am I putting you in a PINEAPPLE, mom!” 

“Pineapples are a symbol of welcome!” Natalie snatched the urn back again. “And I want to be welcomed to the Underworld, okay? Would you show up for a housewarming party without a gift? It’s bad etiquette, so no, it’s not weird ‘Cole”

“It’s weird when your ‘welcome’ gift is made of metal and filled with the ashes of dead people!” Nicole snatched the urn for a second time but it was quickly grabbed back by her mother.

“I’m not dead yet!”

“I KNOW!” 

“But I’m gonna be soon, so I _need_ that Pineapple!” Nicole snatched at the urn again, a childish look of defiance crossing her face as she missed, Natalie managing to dance backwards out of reach.

Matching her defiance pout for pout, Nicole grabbed the urn on her third try, virtually wrestling it off her mother, stopping their argument in its tracks. “You don’t need a frickin’ Pineapple mom. You need a second opinion.”

The defiance fell from Natalie's face. It was replaced with defeat. 

“No. I don’t ‘Cole.” She spoke so softly Nicole wasn’t even sure she heard it with her ears. “And you know it.”

Nicole’s face gurned in anger. She took a breath to begin arguing with her Mom for the thousandth time but her mother whirled on her and in the middle of the funeral parlour showroom, unleashed both barrels at her mortified daughter.

“I am going to DIE!” 

Nicole took a step back. She had never seen her mother’s face crease into anger. 

“This is happening. This will happen, and it will happen soon. I am **42** fucking years old ‘Cole! This was NOT part of the plan.” Natalie raised the urn and shook it for emphasis. “There were so many things I wanted to do and I’m not going to get to do ANY of it! It’s not fair! None of this is even remotely close to being fucking fair!”

A wave of guilt swamped Nicole. “I know mom… I want… I wish I could protect you…”

“Wishes aren’t worth shit.”

After the fury of her anger, the defeated tone that now tinged her mother’s voice was what broke Nicole. Her face crumpled and a tidal wave of tears swam out of her, carrying the last vestiges of both women’s anger with it.

Natalie reached for her daughter, enveloping her in one of her customary tiny bear hugs. “Dammit, ‘Cole. I’m sorry. That wasn’t cool. Or fair.” Her words were muffled into her taller daughter’s shirt, making them quiet and small. So unlike her mother’s larger than life personality.

This was something she could do. She could hold her mother in her brief moment of vulnerability. Hold her as tight as Natalie used to hold her formerly tiny daughter when she cried in her arms late at night, chasing away the bogey men in the closet, or the hurtful words of beige school ‘friends’ who hurled words in mocking tones without knowing what they really meant.

“Mom, you _never_ have to apologise to me. Not for anything. You can yell and scream and curse the universe as much as you want so don’t apologise to me. Ever. Not for any of it.”

Natalie recovered her composure quickly, leaning back to take her daughters face in her hands. “You can’t protect me ‘Cole. Not from this.”

Just like that, the tables were turned back to their natural order, mother comforting daughter. “It’s going to win, and I get it, god knows I get it. All I feel is shame that I can’t protect you from going through this, but it’s happening. No amount of Haught-brand denial is going to serve us well ‘Cole. So I’m going to go out with a hiss and a roar and a giant ‘Fuck-you’ to the Universe. Let me have the only agency I’m going to have in what’s left of my life.”

Natalie drew Nicole into an even tighter hug, holding on like she was desperate to hold on to reality. “You need to let me go, ‘Cole-’Cole. Promise me you’ll let me go?”

Nicole’s arms only tightened. “I can’t Mom. I’m not ready...”

“Will you try?”

While Nicole’s lips and tongue forced the word ‘Yes’ from her face, her mind said the word ‘No’.

“I guess that’ll have to do kid.”

******* ******* *******

 **PRESENT DAY  
** **Nicole’s apartment in Vancouver  
** **LATE AFTERNOON**

“I guess that’ll have to do…”

Nicole cast her eyes over the apartment. Unable to process the storm of emotions Shae’s hurried exit from her apartment that morning had left her with, she had taken to obsessively cleaning.

And baking bread.

Then remaking her bed three times.

Before visiting the market twice.

With more nervous energy than she knew what to do with, Nicole put her grandmother's recipe book away on her tightly rearranged bookshelf, being careful not to look at it as she went. Then re-checked the text exchange she’d had a few hours earlier with Waverly.

_**Bvbvbvb**_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
11.15am:   
_Hey baby!  
_ _Slight change of plans...  
_ _Didn’t take the train so don’t need to be picked up...  
_ _I’ll be at yours at around the same time though_

Nicole 🐶  
11.15am:  
 _Okay, thanks for the heads up  
_ _Everything alright? 👀_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
11.16am   
_Yup  
_ _Just Wynonna stuff  
_ _Can’t wait to see you!  
_ _Xoxox_ 💕💕💕💕

Nicole 🐶  
2.17pm:  
😘 😘 😘 😘 

That had been hours ago so Waverly could be arriving anytime. The not knowing was eating Nicole alive.

Waverly would _be_ here soon. Waverly would be here and she wasn’t sure if she could hold herself together in the way she wanted to. No, in the way she _needed_ to in order to be the kind of person who deserved to have the literal ray of sunshine that was Waverly Earp in her life.

Lost in her internal turmoil, it took Nicole a few moments longer to recognise the arguing voices slowly making their way closer to her front door, but the closer they got, the more unmistakably ‘Earp-like’ they became.

“Why are you like this? Couldn’t you just drop me off like a normal person?”

“No way babygirl. I got her a present…”

“Which I could’ve given to her so you could be… anywhere but here!”

“But I have to deliver it in person.”

“WHY!”

“Because it’s FUNNY!”

Nicole reached out and opened the door on the arguing sisters, surprising them both. For a beat or two, all three women stood in silence on the threshold of the apartment. Wynonna recovered quickly, shoving a fresh pineapple into Nicole’s chest, pushing her aside so she could enter the apartment.

“Hey Haught-stuff! Cool apartment.” Nicole heard Wynonna’s voice behind her but all she could see was the pineapple she now cradled in her arms. 

A pineapple. 

Wynonna had brought her an actual, honest to god, pineapple.

Nicole was holding a pineapple in her mother’s apartment an hour after she had removed the space in which it could’ve proudly sat.

“Apparently Pineapples are gifts of...” Waverly started to explain but Nicole softly cut her off.

“Welcome. I know.” Nicole swallowed harshly, pushing down the swell of emotion until it was as small as a marble. Then she flicked it away, hoping it would take its sweet time to roll back to her.

Wynonna was right. As gifts went it was pretty funny. Her Mom would’ve agreed, so she told herself it was funny over and over again until she believed it. Nicole was expecting to hear her Mom’s voice, her laughter, anything to remind her of the connection they shared but all she could sense was a petulant and deliberate silence. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about her. Are you okay?” Waverly reached, tentatively towards Nicole. She seemed hesitant, put off by Nicole’s understated reaction to their arrival.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry Waves. Just… Surprised is all. Come here…” Nicole dropped the Pineapple on the side table where she could ignore it, and wrapped Waverly in her arms, instantly feeling comforted by her warm presence. 

Waverly returned the hug fiercely, tucking her head in under Nicole’s chin and just absorbing the closeness they had both missed over their few days apart.

“You know, my Mom nearly called me ‘Welcome’” Waverly mumbled as she turned her face to nuzzle contentedly into Nicole’s neck. The revelation made her smile across Waverly’s head as she shut the door behind them.

“Well then, Welcome. Welcome home. I’m so happy you’re here.” Nicole pulled away, but only so she could make enough room to bend and claim Waverly’s lips in a gentle kiss.

A gentle kiss that quickly turned not-so-gentle as Waverly returned it with a passion built up over the short days and long hours since they’d last tasted each other's lips. Nicole pulled Waverly back in tight to her and soon had her backed up into the door, pressing her weight gently into her girlfriend, wanting to feel her everywhere. Wanting to feel how warm, and real and present she was as they both released pent up, soft moans of delight of just being in each other's space.

Nicole’s desire for her extraordinary girlfriend quickend at their first touch and only grew exponentially with each noise the movement of her lips and tongue coaxed from Waverly. Each soft exhalation of her breath and subtle, barely held back buck of her hips had Nicole already at the edge of her control. 

She needed Waverly’s hands on her. They would be an excellent distraction.

“Hey, Haught-in-the-city? Have you seriously only got one bedroom?” Wynonna’s voice carried to them before she re-entered the room from her very short exploration of the apartment.

“Yes, Earp.” Nicole replied quickly before returning to Waverly’s lips, kissing her again quickly so Waverly knew Nicole had no intention of letting Wynonna ruin where they were heading. “One bedroom. One bed. Which will soon have two occupants, so…”

“But where will I sleep?”

Both women froze, mid kiss. Waverly’s hands turned to stone on Nicole’s hips as her eyes widened, first in horror, then in anger. Suddenly wrenched apart by Waverly’s growing fury, Nicole found herself almost tossed aside as Waverly unleashed at her sister.

“Oh no. No, no, no no, NO! You can NOT stay here.”

“Why not? Haught doesn’t mind.”

“Yes she does! Go and stay with DOLLS, Wynonna!”

“No can do, baby girl. We dropped him off at his stupid sports camp where he’s literally staying in a dorm. It’s not like he can have his discreetly ‘pregnant-with-another-man’s-baby hot-as-all-hell fuck-buddy’ move in with him on the first day of his new job.” Wynonna scoffed at her sister.

“No Wynonna!. Just… NO! Nic, tell her she can’t stay here…” 

Nicole only cast one look at the slightly lost and forlorn expression Wynonna was trying to hide on her face. It was all it took.

“Uhhhhhhh, I guess she can sleep on the couch?” 

“Ha! See what a thoughtful gift of a pineapple can buy you Waves? Free room and board in the country's most expensive city!” She had the audacity to wink at the pair while flopping down on the couch, bouncing up and down to test its softness.

Waverly stared open mouthed at her sister before slowly turning an accusatory eye towards her girlfriend. Nicole turned on her saddest puppy eyes, gesturing towards Wynonna with an expression that said ‘ _What was I supposed to do? Make her sleep in the truck?’_ As they held eye contact, Nicole could see the gears turning in Waverly’s head and the acceptance of the situation falling into her eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed in that cute way that just made Nicole melt, and then Waverly’s lips pursed in a grimace that Nicole wanted to kiss right off her face.

The intent must have been written all over her as Waverly snaked her hands around her neck. “Fine Wynonna, but you might want to go for a looooong gentle walk through the market or something because It’s about to get very PG17 on that couch.”

“Only PG17?” Nicole teased as she kissed Waverly gently below her ear.

“Oh, we’ll get up to R rated, don’t you worry.” Waverly kissed her with a fire that shouldn’t have been displayed in front of anyone, let alone Wynonna Earp.

“Ew! You guys are not having sex on MY bed when there’s a perfectly good, PRIVATE ROOM right over there.” Wynonna folded her arms in defiance and man-spread her legs so the still kissing couple couldn’t claim any space on the couch.

Nicole giggled into the kiss as she began to back Waverly up towards Wynonna, wondering who would break first. She chanced a look over Waverly’s shoulder and saw the exact moment Wynonna made her decision.

“Fine! I’ll go out, but sow your seeds in there. I declare this couch sanctuary, got it? It’s a taco tasting free zone. No taco tasting!” With a pointed finger and flourish, Wynonna grabbed her jacket and slammed the front door behind her at the exact moment the pair fell in a tangle of limbs across the couch.

“Oh thank god.” Waverly loudly moaned before Nicole claimed her mouth again and again, lifting Waverly’s thighs up high around her waist. They kissed for several long minutes before Nicole began to dream of what she could do with more space.

“Baby… Waverly…” Nicole tried to interrupt but Waverly’s hands were doing all sorts of delicious things in her hair, and she was finding it hard to summon words. “Waverly… wait.”

Waverly stopped immediately, pulling away slightly with an inquisitive look at her girlfriend. 

“Your sister…” were the only two words her brain managed to push past her lips.

Waverly huffed in frustration, draping her arm across her eyes like she couldn’t bear to discuss her while looking at her girlfriend. “Ugh! I can’t believe she tricked me into driving her and Dolls here when the train got delayed. I can’t believe she just invited herself to stay here.” Waverly peeked out from under her arm. “I can’t believe you _really_ want me to wait to do everything I _need_ to do to you now that we’re finally alone.”

“Wynonna could be gone for five minutes or five hours. I don’t want her to burst in here…”

“She doesn’t have a key.”

“Waves, she lifted your purse on the way out.”

“She what!?” Waverly sat up sharply, almost head butting Nicole in the nose. “Son of a…”

Nicole chuckled at the exasperation on Waverly’s face. “Baby, we don’t have to stop, let’s just…” She trailed off as she hopped off the couch and tried to drag Waverly towards the bedroom. She stopped when she felt the hesitation in Waverly’s suddenly leaden limbs and a look of uncertainty on her face.

“Waves?”

Nicole sat on the coffee table as Waverly’s cheeks turned pink and she dropped her eyes to her feet. Cupping her cheek, Nicole asked “Hey, What’s wrong? Talk to me? Please?”

Waverly sighed and looked up into Nicole’s eyes, a hint of sadness there. “I’m being stupid.”

“Never.” Nicole reassured as Waverly leaned in to place her forearms around her neck.

“I want you…” Waverly whispered in her ear. “...and I want you to take me to bed, but...” Her voice hesitated for a moment, so Nicole waited.

“This is the apartment you shared with your wife.” Waverly confessed. “That’s Shae’s bed and I feel… I feel weird about that for some reason and that’s so dumb...”

Nicole tipped her head, forcing Waverly’s lips into her ear, she reached out and pulled Waverly into her lap as she did so. “Oh, baby that’s the furthest thing from silly. I kinda felt the same way, so uh, last week I bought a new bed and I rearranged the room so it could… so it might... um, be ours. Just ours. If you wanted? Is that okay?”

Waverly leaned back, her eyes shining with something that Nicole would’ve labelled with something starting with ‘L’ if she thought too hard about it. 

So she didn’t think too hard about it. 

Waverly was here with her, now. Nicole was going to enjoy it, insecurities and anxieties be damned. She shut off the thinking part of her brain as Waverly continued to stare at Nicole like she was seeing her for the first time. Waverly backed off her lap and reached for Nicole’s hand as her eyes charged with a blazing desire that Nicole would happily let immolate her inside and out.

“Show me.”

Two simple words. 

An easy instruction to follow.

Hours later, Nicole lay in _their_ bed completely surrounded by the lightly napping form of a naked Waverly Earp. She was lost in a quiet exhaustion, still tingling and aching in all the right places after thoroughly christening the new bed. 

Mercifully, Wynonna had stayed away throughout, causing Nicole to wonder if she hadn’t found somewhere else to sleep after all. 

“We should probably eat, yeah?” Nicole spoke with reluctance, thoroughly entranced by the feeling of Waverly waking, nuzzling into her neck. It was one of Nicole’s favourite things when the roles were reversed. Surrounding herself with the feeling of Waverly’s skin. Her warmth, her scent, the taste of her skin the barest of movements away. It seemed Waverly was similarly a fan of the position, her nose and lips stroking idly up and down the column of Nicole’s neck, soft mmmhmmm noises rumbling non-commitantly from the back of her throat.

_Who am I to argue with such universal truths?_

Nicole smiled, utterly relaxed and calmer than she had felt in days. She felt the barest hint of a tongue on the tip of her ear, then, a slight nip of teeth.

“Hmmmm.” Nicole hummed in satisfaction at the feeling, noting the movement of Waverly’s hands, her skin dancing to the sensation of her wandering touch. “You still going baby?”

“I’m always going when I’m with you.” Waverly whispered. Nicole felt herself alight anew at the words, the confirmation that Waverly wanted her still, even after gaining release several times over. 

Waverly always came back to her, always needing, wanting more.

Waverly’ lips trailed fire down her sternum, tongue dancing out periodically, sampling the spent beads of sweat from their earlier exploits.

“You always taste so sweet Nicole. It’s uncanny. Sweet and salty and all… you. I love the taste of you…” Waverly was still whispering but Nicole heard the strength and truth of each word piercing through her in every place Waverly’s lips touched, staking her down to the bed. Such was the power of hearing that word from Waverly’s lips, even if it wasn’t the context in which Nicole might want it spoken.

“I love the way you make me feel Waves. Every touch, every kiss…”

Nicole’s words drifted away and Waverly’s mouth drifted further south. Her nose nuzzled against Nicole’s closely cropped curls, tickling a question mark over her mound, waiting for permission to take whatever she wanted from her.

“Please…” Nicole murmured, her weak arm unconsciously drifting into Waverly’s hair, fisting it lightly in a much more pleasurable way to complete her physio mandated hourly grip exercises. “I’m yours.”

BANG.

Bobo’s pot wobbled slightly on the dresser as Waverly stopped, mid descent. 

“YOU BETTER BE ASLEEP, LESBIANS!”

Nicole sighed in frustration dropping her hand dramatically to the sheets.

“Timing, Wynonna.” She whispered.

“Ignore her…” Waverly pushed forward, her tongue unfurling to surprise Nicole with it’s delicate, delicious exploration.

“Uhhhhhhh, Waverly!” Nicole uttered a little too loudly.

“I HEARD THAT! STOP DEFILING MY HAUGHT’S POCKET, BABYGIRL!”

“How did she know… Oh, fuck it all to hell!” Barely moving so that each loud syllable she shouted vibrated right into Nicole’s core, Waverly raised her voice to her sister.

“IF I HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU ‘SLIDE INTO THE WICKET’ AND DOLLS ‘DEFEND AROUND HIS OFF STUMP’ THEN YOU CAN LISTEN TO ME STUFF **MY** HAUGHT’S POCKET WITH AS MUCH ‘VEGAN DELIGHT’ AS I DAMN WELL PLEASE!”

“HOW DARE YOU! I GAVE YOU FIVE GOD-DAMN HOURS BABYGIRL!”

“BARELY TIME FOR A QUICKIE, YOU ASSHOLE!”

“Waverly? Oh my god…” This was torture. Actual torture. Nicole was turned on to at least level five but every word Waverly shouted ramped her higher but all she could do was laugh. 

“What?! Why are you laughing?” Waverly huffed in mousy annoyance with just a hint of a smirk on her face. “This isn’t funny Nicole.”

“Oh, sure it is, baby. It’s also, uhh, very hot.”

“Hot? Me shouting at my sister turns you on?”

“Uhhh, kinda…” Nicole was getting more than a little uncomfortable with Waverly’s proximity as they casually chatted. She could literally feel her breath tickling her sparse curls, every hair seemingly attached to an overstimulated nerve ending.

“I’ve never had two hot women fighting over me before. Especially while one of them is this damn close to getting me off with just the feeling of her breath on me. So, yeah. Definitely hot.”

“You think my sister is hot?” Waverly teased.

“What? No… just…Uhhhhhhh.” Nicole was once again finding it hard to access the ‘words’ part of her brain as Waverly let her hands wander, teasing the skin where her thigh met her groin, ticking those fine hairs with more than just her breath.

“She called you _her_ Haught…” The teasing stopped. Nicole looked down to see concern wafting over Waverly’s face like the shimmer of a summer heat wave.

“I’m not going to let my sister take _my_ things…”

“I’m not a dog toy…” Nicole began, now slightly indignant at being fought over by the Earps. There was plenty of her to go around, just in very, very, _very_ different ways.

Waverly giggled. “No, you're not. Dog toys squeak when you bite them…”

“Waverly…” Nicole warned. “Wynonna can _hear_ us!”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?” Waverly made sure to breathe out extra deliberately with each word as she caught and held Nicole’s eyes. “Let’s play a game of ‘who can be the quietest.”

Nicole swallowed, acutely aware of Wynonna’s deliberate stomping around in her living room. 

“I bet I’m going to win.” Almost before the last syllable had left Waverly’s beautiful, dangerously talented mouth she took a strong and deliberate swipe through Nicole’s soaked folds.

“Ohhhhh, fuck. ME!” Nicole exhaled at the same moment Waverly let a none too quiet moan of her own slip out from deep in the back of her throat.

“Ok, so we’re both really shit at this game.” Nicole couldn’t help the giggle that accompanied Waverly’s accurate confession. 

“SHUT. UP!” A loud thud careened into the door accompanied by a squelch sound and a smell that was definitely made by a fresh pineapple exploding against the door.

“IF I HAVE TO STORM IN THERE TO MAKE THIS STOP THEN I WILL GOD DAMN DO IT!”

Wynonna’s voice was louder now, like she was standing just outside.

“Oh my god, did you lock the door?” Waverly asked worriedly, finally sitting up and wrapping a sheet around her like it would somehow prevent the inevitable.

“Yep, but I think it’s time we gamed the system. I’ve got this…” Nicole stepped off the bed. She didn’t bother to dress, just walked calmly to her dresser where she picked up a small velvet tote back.

“TRY GETTING OFF WHILE THIS IS HAPPENING, LOSERS! THIS IS THE SONG THAT DOESN’T END. YES IT GOES ON AND ON MY FRIENDS. MY SISTER, STARTED DOING HAUGHT WHILE I WAS IN THE ROOM. SO I WILL SING AND CLIT-BLOCK YOU FOREVER JUST BECAUSE THIS IS THE SONG THAT DOESN’T END...”

Taking a quick look at Waverly, perfectly bed tousled with her bottom lip pulled in by her teeth and her brow furrowed ‘just so’ in concern, Nicole winked before flipping the lock and opening the door with a grand flourish.

“YES IT GOES ON AND ON… HOLY FUCK! MY EYES!”

Wynonna stumbled backwards, slipping slightly on the pineapple mush on the hallway floor. Nicole, naked as the day she was born, stalked forwards and pushed the velvet bag into Wynonna’s hands.

“Noise-cancelling headphones Wy! Enjoy the sound of silence while I let…”

“LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!” Wynonna shouted as she hastily pulled them from the bag, placing them on her head with a finger thrown in Nicole’s general direction. All while keeping her eyes so tightly closed she walked into the doorway to the living room with a loud ‘oof’.

Chuckling with self-satisfied amusement, Nicole returned to the bedroom in triumph.

“You two are incorrigible, did you know that?” Waverly sat up on her knees with her arms folded in wry amusement.

“What can I say. We get each other. It’s a grudging respect sort of thing.”

“Uh huh. A grudging respect thing where you’re more than happy to flash your spectacular tatas at my sister instead of me?”

“If it gets me what I want, I will gladly flash your sister until she goes blind from the horror of it.” Nicole smirked.

“Well, I’d rather you kept them just for me, if it’s all the same to you. _My_ Haught-pocket.”

“I’m all yours Waverly. Always.”

Then everything was heat, and desire and burning need.

Everything was on fire.

..·ヾ(。＞＜)シ

**Nicole’s apartment in Vancouver  
** **THURSDAY MORNING**

 _Was_ everything _on fire?_

Nicole’s thought simply, as if a cold sense of dread hadn’t taken hold deep in her chest where it hammered out a steady internal rhythm of ‘no, no, no, no, no’ in time with the beat of her feet, running towards her home because she’d had to park her car an entire city block away.

She’d only been gone for a couple of hours. Dropping Waverly at the museum before heading to the physio and then, finally, having the most important meeting with her boss she’d ever had. Where she had laid down her intentions and bared her soul. Where she had formally asked to transfer to the Goat River County and she had provisionally agreed and given her all the paperwork she needed to make her dream a reality.

Wynonna should have been fine left alone in the apartment to practice her vegan pie showstopper. She should’ve been fine.

_You have GOT to be FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME!_

Who was she kidding. Wynonna + oven/electricity/gas/fire = headache for Nicole Haught.

She knew this. She knew, and yet she still felt surprise as her rapidly pumping legs finally brought her level with the first of the large red engines blocking the entrance to her apartment complex. A small squad of silver and yellow uniforms exited the main door, all clean, no soot.

_Thank god?_

Nicole felt the eyes of all of her neighbours on her as she stalked over to Wynonna, who was chatting up a silver-haired fireman and not paying any attention to the mayhem all around her.

“Oh, hey Haught-pants. This is Charlie…”

“It’s Julian actually.”

“Really? Hang on, this is your number, right?” Wynonna pulled her top down to reveal a phone number scrawled in black marker across her right boob. 

“Uh, nope, that’s Charlies number.” Julian replied before shaking his head and walking away.

“What the fuck Wynonna!”

“Ah, what can I say. Who employs _two_ hot older dudes and then sends them _both_ around when I set fire to things?”

“Wy. Nonna! What’s on fire!?”

“Cool your jets, Haught. Nothing’s actually on fire. Not anymore anyway.”

“URRRRGH! I can’t believe you! I was gone for TWO HOURS ‘NONNA!”

“One...” Wynonna held up her middle finger to begin counting. “I had no idea you had smoke alarms, and two...” Up went her pointer finger to join it. “...they just turned up out of the blue! I was handling it. I can handle fire, Nicole. But uh, also. You need a new oven so I’m just gonna grab the truck and…”

Nicole grabbed her arm before Wynonna could even take a step towards the batted old Ford. “No, you come here and explain to me what the fuck…”

Then they were wrestling. 

“Get off me, narc!“ 

“No! Not until you tell me what happened.”

“FINE! God, the pleat in your pants is so stark it counts as an official fault line in the Pacific ring of fire!” 

“How. Did you. Set fire. To my kitchen?!” Nicole huffed with the effort of trying to keep Wynonna from running off while not actually hurting her. “Was there a spider again?”

“No! Your oven set fire to itself. I did NOTHING!” Wynonna huffed while slapping at Nicole’s arm.

“Clearly!”

With Wynonna trapped in a headlock, Nicole looked up to see the complete crews of two fire trucks staring at the pair.

“Uh, are you the owner of 22/B?” A different, but admittedly similar looking, grey-haired man intoned seriously enough for Nicole to let Wynonna go and draw herself to her full height.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m Constable Nicole Haught.”

“Your oven is a write-off I’m afraid. Looks like an electrical fault. You’re lucky your friend was here. She managed to limit the damage so the apartment and your neighbours weren’t in any danger...” Wynonna shot her a smug look. “...but you’ve got one hell of a mess to clean up in the kitchen so we’ll leave you to it.”

He backed away with a small smirk directed at Wynonna and Wynonna only. He raised his hand to his ear then mouthed the words ‘Call me’ at her as she smiled lasciviously in response.

Nicole could only stare at her friend in disbelief.

“Wynonna! He must be fifty years old!” 

“Eh. It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done in my life.” Wynonna snorted. 

“Obviously not, Wynonna!” Nicole gestered exasperatedly towards the complex.

Wynonna followed the direction of her arm with her eyes as if she didn’t immediately catch her meaning. “Oh. Nah, still not the worst thing I’ve done.”

“‘NONNA, YOU SET FIRE TO MY KITCHEN! What the hell did you do that’s worse than LITERAL ARSON!”

“Murdered my Dad?” Wynonna responded with a nonchalant shrug and walked back into the apartment, leaving a bewildered Nicole standing alone in the street.

(⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙)

Nicole followed Wynonna back into the apartment in a fugue.

_Did she really just say she… murdered her…?_

She found Wynonna in the kitchen, decidedly _not_ attempting to clean the large floor to ceiling smoke stain beside the oven. Instead she was leaning in the fridge.

“You got anything other than beer in here Haught.” Wynonna spoke without apparent emotion, while passing a bottle out to her.

“Uh, there’s a Coke in the back, I think?”

“Got it.” Wynonna stood and leaned against the counter, taking a long swig while Nicole looked on, unable to bring any words forward, unable to figure out how to ask if she’d heard what she thought she’d just heard. She didn’t even notice the mess of soot and fire suppressant foam covering the floor.

“Oh, alright narc. Yeah, I shot my Dad. In the back.” Wynonna recounted like she’d just said her Dad ran off with his secretary to Cancun. 

“Jesus, Wynonna.” Nicole exhaled, utterly unaware that she’d been holding her breath. A nightmare scenario was running through her head that she was going to have to arrest Wynonna in her ruined kitchen had been playing through her head in a loop. How the fuck would she explain that to Waverly?

“Yeah, well I was actually aiming at the biker gang who had invaded the Homestead. They were abducting my sister, so…” 

“Wait! Waverly was abducted!?” Her heart leaped so high in her throat Nicole didn’t even have time to be relieved that Wynonna’s comment had downgraded the crime from ‘patricide’ to ‘manslaughter’. “How old was she? What happened, oh my god.” 

“Calm your tits, Red. It wasn’t Waverly.” 

“Wasn’t… you have another sister?” 

“Had. Didn’t Waverly tell you?” Nicole shook her head slowly in shock. “Huh. I figured she would’ve since you’ve been sleeping in her mausoleum at the Homestead.” 

“Oh. The redecorating…” 

“Yeah.” 

“...and the nightmares…” 

“Is she still having those?” Wynonna asked with concern. Nicole only nodded, stunned into silence. Waverly hadn’t even hinted at the scale of her sorrow. “I thought they had stopped since… well. Since you.” 

“What was your sister’s name?” 

“Willa. She was… It doesn’t matter. They never found her.” 

Nicole sat heavily on a barstool, her head falling into her hands as she tried to process what Wynonna was telling her, unsure if she could ask what she wanted to know, but the words tumbled out of her against her better judgement. “Um, where was… Where was Waverly? During, I mean.” 

Wynonna bristled. “Standing right next to me. She was four. Willa was thirteen.” 

“How old were you?” 

“Ten.” 

“TEN! And you all saw…” 

“Yup. And the Earp curse was born. We’re kind of legendary in town. Infamous, even.” 

“Curse?” Nicole’s brain was in turmoil. It was a lot of information to take in all at once. She felt like Wynonna had flipped on a blender without the lid and the contents had exploded all over the room.

While she talked, Wynonna stared out the kitchen window with hard, cold eyes, while relaxed, soft hands absentmindedly rubbed soothing patterns across her stomach. 

“Our Dad, well, he was a... complicated man. We all loved him, but he had some problems with drink, his fists and his sanity. We spent a lot of time on our own, but when he was home, he would tell us all stories. He was convinced that demons had cursed the family and we all believed it. Willa more than all of us, and I was halfway to believing it too. He told us the Bandidos were a supernatural force we had to defeat. So of course I told the authorities that when they turned up, after it all went down, and I was in an institution by the end of the week.” 

Nicole’s heart broke.

It broke for Waverly, tiny, scared and unable to comprehend the adult events happening all around her that night, but it broke the most for Wynonna. By the time Wynonna stopped speaking, of incompetent investigators, teachers and therapists, stints in juvie and unnecessary psyc evaluations, the desperate need to escape that led to more isolation and missing most of Waverly’s own childhood, the tears were streaming silently down Nicole’s face.

Nicole’s heart was in pieces in her lap.

_How could such sorrow and hardship produce two such extraordinary women?_

Wynonna’s eyes flickered away quickly when she noticed Nicole’s tears. “I made my peace with it long ago. We don’t need a pity party.”

“I don’t pity you, Wynonna. I’m in awe of you.”

“Awe?”

“Yes, awe. Of you both, and I am inexplicably filled with hope.” Wynonna clearly hadn’t been expecting that response. Nicole wiped her face before explaining further.

“I’ve been a cop for, oooo, five years now although it feels longer. I’m a city cop. We see very ‘city’ kinds of things but family violence is the same no matter what door you’ve knocked on. I only ever get to see the front line of it. Never what happens down the road. What happens after. I never find out if they escape, if the kids endure more or if it ever gets any better for them. It’s the hardest part of my job. The not knowing. It can make cops hard, indifferent to people and what they’re going through. I don’t want to be like that as I go through my career.”

Nicole could see she had Wynonna’s attention. She didn’t want to pull the story back to herself but she felt compelled to explain.

“I want to get to know people, to actually help them and just knowing that people can survive, that they can escape and become as strong and amazing and capable as Earps? That… that really means something to me. So yes, I’m in awe of you Wynonna. Of who you’ve become. Of who you will be.” 

Nicole caught the flash of fear in Wynonna’s eyes, the way her hands and arms tightened slightly around her baby bump.

“Who I’ll be? I’m gonna be a single mom in a town where people cross the street with their kids when I walk by. What the fuck does that tell you about who I am Nicole?”

“That you’re a superhero, Wynonna. Like my single mom was.” Nicole answered quickly because to her it was the god's-honest truth.

Wynonna fell silent. Nicole noticed her eyes flickering back and forth between the (cold) and (unconditional) modes she was most familiar with. They couldn’t quite settle, like there was a battle being waged over accepting Nicole’s words as truth.

“How… how did she do it?” Wynona asked with a quietness Nicole had never heard before. “I mean, holy shit. Raising kids is hard enough with two functional adults around to do it. How is it even possible to fly solo and not… fuck everything and everyone up. Like… like Dad did.”

Nicole felt a little piece of her heart break all over again as she looked at Wynonna, leaning quietly against the fridge, exuding a quiet yet strangely comfortable vulnerability. 

“My mom was 18 when she got pregnant, 19 when I was born. She… let people hurt her, for a long time. After she found out I was on the way, she got out. She never told me where she was, or what she did. All I know is that she didn’t even tell her own mom about me. Not for years. She just got on with life.” 

Nicole chanced a look at Wynonna again and she looked so lost. Like Nicole was just reinforcing her fears with her tale but there was no way to sugar coat her Mom’s life and untimely death.

“She cleaned things, she delivered things, all with me in tow. When I was in school, she worked in an office then studied at night and eventually got a well paid job in Texas. That’s when we went and lived with my grandmother. Hang on a sec...”

Nicole got off her set and leaned around the kitchen door to the bookcase. She drew out her grandmother’s recipe book, quickly turning it to the inside cover, pointing out a photograph of three women, the youngest of whom was Nicole. 

While Nicole was occupied, Wynonna stole her seat. “Pregnant. I get dibs now.” She said as she took the charred book in her hands. “I didn’t see this before… Is that your Mom? And your...”

“Gizmo. We called her Gizmo.” Nicole smiled as she noticed Wynonna’s mouth hold back it’s own small smirk at the name. “Now we know where the tall and ginger came from.”

Her grandmother was a statuesque woman, around 65 years old in the photo, flaming red hair fading into a duller, more weathered copper with the odd strand of white. The smile on her face matched Nicole’s own. 

Her mother had her face turned towards Nicole and her eyes beamed with pride.

“Mom worked and cared for Gizmo and saved enough to get an apartment and help me with academy costs. I don’t know how she did it.”

“She loved you.”Wynonna tapped at the picture, acknowledging the love the three women clearly shared. It represented the antithesis of everything Wynonna had experienced in her life but Nicole wanted to be clear. She had the benefit of more love in her upbringing than she might have a right to expect but that didn’t mean her Mom had an easy ride. Love doesn’t put food on the table after all.

“Yeah, but she sacrificed to keep moving forward. I know it wasn’t easy for her. She did things her own way, and sometimes, that made life hard. Every step and misstep was an important point along the way. She… She never let her mistakes define her. I owe her everything.”

“She does sound like a superhero, Haught.”

“She was a single mom, and that’s the same damn thing.”

“Haught?”

“Yeah, Wy?”

“I like your Mom.”

“I think she would’ve liked you too.”

“Too bad she ended up 50,000 leagues under the sea.”

Nicole snorted, before turning to Wynonna, looking her right in the eye so she would see she meant every word she was about to say. “You remind me of her.”

Wynonna blinked a few times, like she was trying to process what she’d just heard then her face contorted.

“Are you saying I look like I'm dead or like a water-logged pineapple?”

“I’m saying that the only person I’ve ever met that comes even close to the strength of character she had, is _you_ Wynonna.” Nicole reached out her good hand and let it hover near Wynonna’s now obvious baby bump, hesitant to touch without explicit consent. “This little bean will have nothing to worry about because she’ll have you _and_ her Aunty Waverly to help her do her growing up. Right?” 

Wynonna was silent, her throat swallowing harshly and Nicole could see the moisture being blinked back behind her eyes.

“But I don’t _want_ that for her!” Wynonna’s vehemence took her back. “I don’t want Waverly to have to fill the role of the absent parent. After our Momma left and… and everything else, it was Waverly who stepped in and she was just this tiny, precocious little kid! Always running around, looking after everything and everyone else like she was born for it. I mean, of the two of us, which one do you think is more suited to being a Mom?”

It was a rhetorical question. Nicole knew enough not to even attempt to answer it.

“I want Waverly to be free to do ‘Waverly things’ and I feel like I’ve tied her down to Purgatory with….”

Wynonna fell silent again, rubbing her small baby bump in an endless comforting circular motion. Nicole waited, patient as an eroding tailwind.

“...but I don’t think I can do this without her. “

Nicole’s eyes dropped to the photograph in the book, her memories pounding inside her own head as she heard Wynonna’s words.

“How do I do any of this without her?”

******* ******* ******* ****

 **THREE YEARS PRIOR  
** **Natalie Haught’s Hospice Room**

_How do I do any of this without you?_

Nicole looked over the pile of papers her mother had just handed her without seeing what was written on them. 

_Goddammit._

_Not today, Mom..._

“So in terms of inheritance, you get the apartment, my shitty car and the bit of savings I’ve got. It’s everything really, but I have set aside a donation to the Happy Herd Animal Rescue Farm.”

“What? Why?”

“Goats can’t rescue themselves, Nicole. Anyway, I’ve got something else for you and I wanted to hand it over while I still could.” Oblivious to Nicole’s inner turmoil, Natalie began ferreting around beneath the throw at the foot of the bed, grimacing slightly as she bent.

“Mom… Not today. Not now, I can’t… listen to this.”

“‘Cole, it’s important.”

“Shae’s dad died...”

“Oh”

“...and I walked down there to see her this morning and told her that joke you made about his skin flaking off and she was crying and… he was there. Right there in the bed and I’m an idiot, and… Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Cole. Is Shae…? “

“She’s not okay, no. Why would anyone be okay when you have to sit in this fucking place and literally watch yourself move up a generation? Why would anyone be okay with feeling _this_ awful because it’s not me that’s dying. It’s you, and… and him, and I can’t... fucking… DO anything!”

Natalie reached out and took her daughter’s hand, holding it in silence for a while, until it got too much and she broke it with a poor attempt at humour.

“It’s as quiet as the dead in here.”

“Mom, Jesus.”

“Well. Come on. Let me give you this one thing okay? Please?”

Nicole sighed. “What is it, Mom.”

Natalie handed over an old cloth covered book. It had several coffee ring stains on the front and back. Some loose pages here and there. Most had flour collected in the spine folds and patches of stiffness where eggs had splashed the edges.

“Gizmo’s recipe book?”

“She wanted you to have it after she died, but I wasn’t having that. I had my own recipes I wanted to put in before you added all your vegetarian nonsense. I said to her, right in her face. I told her, ‘over my dead body’ so here I am. Passing it on to you, over my nearly expired corpse.”

Nicole burst into tears. 

Her head sank slowly into her mother’s lap as everything flowed out of her at once. Natalie simply held her daughter, exactly as she had done for the past twenty three years. Until the sobs faded away into silence.

Later, much later. When the sobs had died down, and Natalie’s own tears had long since dried. Nicole whispered into the damp cloth of her mother’s shirt.

“How do I do this without you?”

“Do what?”

“Live? Open my eyes each day? It’s always been you and me against the universe, remember? What am I supposed to do when you’re gone?

“Find someone else to fight the universe with ‘Cole.” Nicole hugged her mother tightly. “Not Shae.”

Nicole laughed. “Okay Mom. I’ll keep her out of the Universe’s business.”

“Good. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“No, dying is easy, ‘Cole. Living? Now that’s a challenge.”

******* ******* *******

 **PRESENT DAY  
** **Nicole’s apartment in Vancouver  
** **THURSDAY MORNING**

“Are you going to be this frontal-lobally challenged every time I mention Waverly’s name? “Did I break you or something? Seriously, you look like your brain’s buffering harder than an ancient Dell. Not a euphemism, by the way. Unless?”

For some reason, Nicole could barely hear Wynonna’s words. She could just about tell that she was being teased but all she could see was the photo of her mom and Gizmo, tucked inside the recipe book, unburned and unmarked lying stark against too-white, overly starched sheets.

Her breathing became shallow and her vision narrowed. Breaths came in short sharp pants as she realised she couldn’t move. She couldn’t see anything other than the photograph, but Wynonna was there right? Just there? 

_Is this a panic attack?_

A hand swam in front of her vision and she snapped. Her focus pulled back and suddenly she was back in the room.

“Earth to Haught. You okay?” 

Nicole forced her neck to turn so she could look at her friend. “Yeah, sorry. Not sure what that was, I…” Wynonna’s brows creased, her eyes questioning and analytical. Was this her work face?

She shook her head as if to knock away the fog she felt in her brain and willed her hands to move tapping the photo of her Mom. “Uh, Mom wouldn’t let me talk like that. She said she was never tied down. She did the things she wanted to do when she wanted to do them. She just thought she’d have more time to do _all_ the things. Waverly can still do all the things, and so can you. There’ll just be three Earps to enjoy it with. You can break the Earp curse together.”

Wynonna was still wearing her analytical face. She was assessing Nicole, studying every aspect of her face and it was deeply disconcerting. With the lack of input from the voice of her Mom on the subject, Nicole engaged Haught-brand denial by deciding to ignore it.

Wynonna wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“Nicole, when did your Mom leave the group chat?” 

“What?” 

“When did she, you know, move to pineapple city?” 

Wynonna tapped the photo for emphasis but Nicole still had no idea what she meant.

“Jesus, when did she DIE Nicole!” 

“Oh, um. Three years ago. Three years ago on Saturday.” She mumbled, slightly appalled that the information had just tumbled out of her mouth. “Although, I got the call about her taking a downward turn a few days before that, so this whole week’s a bit of a write off for my emotional well-being.” 

“Bingo. Jesus, Haughtstuff. I saw your face when you opened the door. I’m guessing any other week of the year, me turning up with a Pineapple in hand would’ve been as funny as fuck, right? But not this week.”

“Yeah.” Nicole smiled. “Not this week.”

“Does Waverly know?” 

“No, and I’m not gonna say anything. She’s obviously got her own trauma and I don’t need to add to it with my…”

“Nuh. That’s overprotective bullshit.” Wynona interrupted with trademark abruptness. “‘Your pain is worse than my pain’ is a shitty excuse for not buying your own anusol. It’s like deliberately leaving your doggy-do bags at home 'cos you've got a shitzu rather than a Doberman. I hate to tell you this Haught, but shit stinks no matter which asshole it comes out of.”

“My shit doesn’t stink as bad as yours, Wy…” Nicole was struggling to understand Wynonna’s perspective. “I’m just standing closer to it.”

“Exactly! Look, this is how my therapist put it. Everyone drowns in water, Nicole. Whether it's an inch deep or a diving pool. _Everyone_ drowns if they haven’t got someone to reach a hand out to.” 

“Just as well I can swim then.” Nicole countered with defiance.

“For how long.” Wynonna was as deadly serious as Nicole has ever seen her. “How long can you tread water before you have to sleep? How long until you drown?”

“But I lo… I care about her, Wy. So damn much, and I don’t want to burden Waverly when she’s obviously carrying so much…” 

“You’re gonna need your girlfriend this week Nicole. Let her decide how much is too much to carry. You deserve support too.” 

“You sound like my ex-wife..”

“Is that why ‘gorgeous lady doctor’ was here? Waverly’s words, not mine, by the way. Might want to talk to her a bit about that too.”

“When did you get so incisive?”

“When I hung my certificate in Mental Health Support Services on my wall I was bequeathed universal knowledge by the Gods. True story.”

“Wait. You’re actually certified in something?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“More surprising than coming home to a kitchen full of firemen that you ordered like takeout!”

“Hey, I could ‘take them out’ anytime I like.” Wynonna pulled down her top to expose the number on her breast again. 

A gentle buzzing interrupted, causing Wynonna to quip “That better be a phone in your Haught-pocket, because it’s far too early in our friendship slash tolerate-you-because-you-date-my-sister-ship to find out you carry a vibrator around for sex emergencies.”

“Sex… emergencies?” Deciding not to unpick that thought any further, Nicole read out a text message from Waverly.

“Shit. It’s Waves. She’s wondering why I haven’t turned up at the Museum yet.” Nicole began typing furiously, sending a litany of ‘sorry’ with a hint of ‘Wynonna’ as a verb in apology.

“Whiiiiiipped! Tell her she can wait. Ooo, and that I have a date with a hoooot silver fox!”

“Nuh, uh. You’re coming with me to ooh and ahh about ancient cultures. Watching her get excited about it will cheer us both up.”

Wynonna laughed dismissively. “In what universe do you see me in a museum, Haught”

“In this one, because if we go together, we can team up and convince her to come home early to help clean up all this shit.”

“I like the way you think, Haught. TO THE SCIENCE MUSEUM!”

“She’s at the Museum of Anthropology at UBC, but whatever, yeah, let’s go!”

Nicole was talking to air as Wynonna had already grabbed her jacket and rushed to the front door. She smiled wryly, wondering what she had done to exist in a universe that contained the vulnerable but tough as tempered steel presence of Wynonna freakin’ Earp. 

Suddenly, her mother’s advice reared up and slapped Nicole in the face.

_Someone to fight the Universe with..._

_Huh._

Wynonna was her own damned universe, so maybe it was time to follow her Mother’s last piece of advice. Suddenly, Nicole felt a little better that her Mom didn’t have an opinion on the matter.

Casting a quick eye around her ruined kitchen, Nicole couldn’t help but smile before following Wynonna out to her truck.

“Waverly is going to be so pissed.”

**BAKE OFF TENT  
** **SUNDAY**

“Waverly is _pissed!_ What did you say to her, narc?”

“Me?! You’re the one who spent yesterday running around like the sixth Monty Python, Wynonna!”

“Well, all I know is that she was breaking up a storm in the pool room last night and this morning I can barely get a word out of her.”

Wynonna was right. Nicole had noticed that Waverly seemed a little more reserved but she had been all weekend. When the cameras were on and when she was baking, Waverly was a pocket dynamo, getting more done in her allotted time and using far more complex techniques than any of the other bakers. 

Later that night, adrift on a sea of tangled bed sheets, limbs poking out like so much detritus, Nicole hadn’t been able to make the tiny cloud in Waverly’s eyes fade. No matter how hard she tried.

“What’s wrong?” She had asked, with earnest concern.

“What do you mean?” Waverly had seemed genuinely surprised by the question.

“The cloud is back. In your eyes.” Nicole had traced her thumb over her eyelids like the merest touch could wipe it all away and make Waverly see through newly clear irises. She had kept her eyes closed, even as Nicole began to pepper her face with soft, loving kisses.

“I could say the same to you, you know?”

Nicole paused her kisses at Waverly’s ear. Not intentionally, but as a consequence of being correctly called out on her bullshit, while neatly deflecting the point of the question. She’d noticed this was an annoyingly effective avoidance tactic Waverly had in her arsenal, but Nicole was already trapped.

“I’m fine baby. A little tired?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I can see the tears hiding in the corners of your eyes Nicole. I wish… I wish you would share it with me. What’s bothering you.”

Nicole nearly did. She nearly let an entire week’s worth of repressed emotions about her mother’s loss out all at once, but if she had, she might have cried on Waverly’s naked chest for eternity.

“I… I want to. I do, but…”

“You’re not ready.” Waverly said with understanding. “Neither am I.”

Nicole had kissed her like the world was ending, tears for her Mom still tucked away under the blanket of her eyelids, grey mist of fog still clouding Waverly’s eyes like they heralded an oncoming storm.

The next day, the cloud had followed Waverly back into the tent for the Showstopper filming and it seemed a little darker, a little moodier with a soupçon of petulance thrown in for good measure. For some reason, it was primarily targeted at Wynonna.

“I don't know what to tell you Wy, she didn’t mention anything to me, and normally she would tell me, in great detail, if you had managed to piss her off.”

“Yeah, well something’s got her panties in a twist and that is one hundred percent _not_ my job.”

“Are you saying twisting Waverly’s panties is my… and you just wanted me to say that out loud, didn't you! Where did you get your gaping capacity for assholery?”

“Maybe I was born with it…”

“Maybe it’s your ‘baby bean’? I’ve heard the hormone imbalance can be a real bitch.”

“Will you two _please_ stop acting like a big bunch of bratty babies!” Waverly hissed, suddenly, whirling on the pair. “All fricken’ week I’ve had to listen to you go on and on…”

“She set fire to my kitchen!”

“You had sex in my ears all week! Wait, I mean...”

“I’ve had it with you two!

Nicole and Wynonna both came to a sudden stop on an upper step, Waverly pointing an accusatory finger from below. Despite their positions making Waverly appear even shorter than normal, it was Waverly who was in absolute command, her finger holding some kind of magical power of immobilisation.

“All I wanted this week was to spend a little quality time with my girlfriend, so we could do some talking when we’re not so exhausted at the end of the day that the only thing my brain can find the energy for is talking with my hands.” She blushed in tandem with Nicole at the confession. “But no, Wynonna Earp has to tag along and suck up all of her time…”

“Oh, come on Waverly.” Wynonna seemed hurt, her natural ‘fuck you’ reaction kicking in like default code. “You don’t have a monopoly on Red’s time. She _wanted_ to go out for a drink after we cleaned the kitchen. She _wanted_ to play Drunkards Boggle on Thursday and she _wanted_ to take the last ferry to Nanaimo on Friday so we could all go to the Hanson reunion concert. Didn’t ya Haughtstuff?”

“She _didn’t_ want to be out until 3am at a series of strip clubs after _I_ cleaned the kitchen. She _didn’t_ want to spend the night passed out drunk with you on her own couch and she _didn’t_ want to see Hanson because she told me she’d rather gouge out her own eyeballs but she couldn’t say no to you!”

“Uh! How dare you!

“And, uhhhhhhh, ‘She’ is right here…” Annoyed by Waverly revealing something she’d said in confidence, Nicole tried to get between the sisters before things escalated, but she was still unsure of her place in their dynamic. Unsure how far to push back against either sister.

“God,” Waverly continued as if Nicole hadn’t spoken at all. “It’s like the more time you two spend together the more chaotic you become, and the less I…” 

The ‘ _...less I seem to fit in_ ’ that ended Waverly’s sentence remained unspoken as the trio simultaneously noticed how close they were to the other bakers milling around waiting to film their daily entrance. They were all trying very hard to look like they hadn’t just overheard most of the argument. 

“Look. Just forget it. Can we please just concentrate on baking today?”

“Sure Waverly, whatever you need.” Nicole tried to placate but Waverly had already turned away, ready to face whatever the tent was going to throw at her today.

Nicole caught Wynonna’s eye and all she could do was shrug. The concern in her face was evident.

All Nicole could do was wait.

(ノ_<。)

_I can’t wait anymore…_

_Why is this taking so long?_

_How much time is left?_

The last thing Nicole could remember was watching the judges and presenters walk up to their marks at the top of the tent and hearing Sue introduce the Vegan Showstopper challenge. 

“Good morning bakers! Today’s showstopper is a three course meal in a tower of pie. You need to make an entree, a main course and then an exquisite dessert but it all has to be pie and it all has to be vegan. Yes, even the pastry! So turf out what you think you know about rough puff and shortcrust. We can’t see any butter, honey, milk or eggs. It’s all aquafaba-ulous from here on out.”

Then Mel had elaborated to round off the introduction while Mary and Paul stood passively by as if they hadn’t just demanded the impossible from the bakers. “Mary and Paul want to see at least three pies in your tower made with at least two different vegan pastries. All the ingredients, whether sweet or savory must be vegan too. You have three and a half hours to complete this challenge. On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“Bake!”

_Bake._

_Yeah. So easy._

_Just put the pie in the oven and watch it bake._

_Watch the moisture from the vegetables boil and burst through the top._

_Watch the decorative edge of the pastry lid burn._

_Burn as black as the edges of Gizmo’s recipe book._

_Imagine the inevitable soggy bottom of the unevenly baked pie when it’s turned out._

_Imagine the disgusted faces of Mary and Paul as they politely try and eat it._

_And there’s nothing I can do._

_That pie is one hundred percent fucked._

Nicole’s mind was running away from her.

The tent had slowly reduced over the last ten minutes to just the sensation of her arm reached out to her oven door, her fingers locked around the handle, slowly turning white with the fierceness with which she gripped it. She could feel all the muscles in her forearm vibrating like she was locked in an arm wrestle, the outcome of which would determine whether she would live or die.

The sounds of the camera crew, Wynonna’s loud cussing through her own oven window behind her, even Mel loudly calling out ‘Five minutes remaining, bakers! Five minutes!’ all washed over Nicole as the staring continued. 

The whirlpool of thought grew tighter, faster, dragging Nicole down until even those last remaining sounds petered out to nothing.

_It’s fucked._

_You can’t fix it._

_It’s just a goddamn pie!_

_There’s no coming back from this._

_You gotta take it out though._

_But it’s not ready…_

_It’s burning!_

_It's not ready…_

_Open the fucking door!_

Her grip tightened imperceptibly and Nicole began to lose feeling in her weaker arm but she lacked the overall comprehension to be able to feel much about the sensation. Especially seeing as she was no longer aware of much of anything. 

All there was, was her arm, her hand, and a door handle.

_Why am I shaking?_

_Why can’t I open the door?_

A voice bobbed suddenly through the wall of Nicole’s whirlpool. Wynonna, asking a simple, almost asinine question quietly to Nicole’s prone form. “Cooking, Nicole?”

_No, Wynonna. I’m developing pictures for the Magellan Space Program..._

_Wait! That was_ **_your_ ** _line, Mom! Where the fuck are you!?_

“Bakers! One minute! One minute remaining!”

_I have to get it out of the oven._

_It’s burning._

_I can’t save it…_

_I can’t save..._

_Just open the door..._

Her breath stuck in her throat, and wouldn’t restart. 

Everything was white.

She felt like she was drowning.

_Just open the door..._

_Just open the fucking door…_

******* ******* *******

 **THREE YEARS PRIOR  
** **Natalie Haught’s Hospice Room**

_Just open the fucking door..._

Nicole stood in front of her Mother’s hospice room. Her hand locked around the door handle, gripping it tightly, like she was trying to hold the door closed rather than force her muscles to coordinate and open it instead.

She had taken the call in the middle of being interviewed for a promotion. 

She’d had to beg forgiveness, go out into the hall and answer her phone, all so she could hear the words ‘your mother’s taken a turn for the worse. You should probably get yourself down here as soon as you can.’ 

After firing a quick text to Shae, Nicole somehow, held it together as she walked back in, finished the interview and then told her superiors she needed to leave her shift early. “I’m sorry Sir. It’s my mother. She’s in the hospice, and I… I need to go.” 

“Of course, Nicole. Go. I’ll sort things here, you just...go.” 

At least, she thinks something like that was said. She didn’t really hear them.

The drive to the hospice took exactly fifty years and five minutes to make, as did the walk from the carpark, down the labyrinthine hallways to the wing that housed her mother.

A tea-trolley with scones, carafe of water, milk and coffee had materialised outside her door as had a pair of chairs, one of which was occupied by Shae. 

_It’s a vigil. They’ve set the hallway up as a vigil space._

“Shae?” Nicole asked tentatively.

“‘Cole, she’s still here.”

A ragged cry tore from her throat at the words. 

Shae held her tightly. 

“Shhh, it’s okay for now. She’s still here, she’s still here, but you should know…” Nicole leaned back to look Shae in the eye. “It won’t be long.”

Nicole frowned, immediately wanting to question her. “How do you know? How does anyone know… when…”

“Look, end of life care isn’t really my speciality, Nikki. I know I give the nurses here a hard time and I know I shouldn’t, but people die here every day. They just… know, alright. Sometimes it’s just a gut feeling.”

Nicole nodded dumbly at her.

“You should go in. Hold her hand.”

Nicole kept nodding but not really understanding.

“Do you… want me to come in with you?” Shae asked, with obvious hesitance.

Nicole answered, a mite too quickly.

“No. Um, I mean. Not yet. Okay?”

“Of course. I’ll be right here. Her Doctor is with someone in the east wing and will be back shortly. I’ll knock, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Nicole reached out her hand to the door knob, hovering over it briefly as if her skin were made of negatively charged ions. “Shae? What should I expect? I mean. Can she talk?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. They wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m not next of kin.”

_Next of Kin? Who will be my next of kin when she's... Fuck._

_Fuck!_

_You can do this, Haught._

_Come on._

_Accident victims have died in your arms, you can handle this._

_Open the fucking door._

_Just open the fucking door._

_Open the door Haught_   
  


******* ******* *******

 **PRESENT DAY  
** **Bake Off tent**

“Haught?”

“Haught mess? Hey, hey, Nicole? NICOLE!”

Nicole felt startled.

Startled by the loud calling of her name in her ear, but mostly by the lack of physical response to being startled in the first place. 

She felt locked in place, her fist clenched and unmoving on the oven door, her eyes trained mercilessly on it, but they were unfocused and unseeing. All she could see was the door handle to her Mother’s hospice room.

She couldn’t move.

Was she breathing? Nicole wasn’t sure.

Slowly, she became aware of more sensations. Wynonna’s voice, actually gentle, whispering in her ear. Words of calmness. “This is normal.” She heard her say. “This will pass.” Looped on repeat, Nicole focussed on her voice and very slowly, began to come back to herself.

The image of her mother’s door faded to white. She felt Wynonna’s forearm across her sternum, pushing her with deliberate force back against her workstation, only relaxing when Wynonna sensed movement from Nicole.

She slowly slumped, allowing her legs to fall out from beneath her. Wynonna’s body shielding her from the view of both the bakers and the camera crew.

“Wy?” Nicole took uneven, ragged breaths as she tried to make sense of where she was and what was happening.

“Take your time Nicole. You don’t need to say anything. Just breathe.”

“But… I’m sorry.”

“Nope. Don’t say that shit. Not to me. This is normal. The moment is passing. The moment is passing.”

Nicole fell silent for a few more breaths. She felt marginally more in control. Her hand finally fell from the handle and slapped with weight into her lap.

“Wynonna?” 

Nicole heard a tremulous voice from somewhere behind her friend, but still couldn’t quite focus beyond what was right in front of her. 

It was Waverly’s voice. 

_Waverly must think… I don’t know what Waverly must think of me..._

She sounded close. Close enough to reach out for, but she held her arm back, not wanting whatever this was anywhere near her love, sure her touch might somehow be dangerous, infectious, and unwanted.

“Waverly, can you get the pie out for Haught-stuff here? In a few minutes we’re going to take a walk and she’ll need you to hold off the crew while she takes some time before judging, okay?”

“But I…”

“No buts. I know what this is and I can help her. I’ve got our girl, Waves. I swear it.”

Nicole wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she felt the waft of hot air from the oven. She smelled the burned pastry. 

“Oh God…” Waverly whispered as she tried to fan away the worst of the smoke, Mattie and Jeremy quickly joining in with their tea-towels.

“Is she all right?”

“What’s going on?” 

They whisper to each other, each soft question floating up into the boom along with the smoke. Nicole couldn't really hear any of it. Only Wynonna’s soft reassurances, which continued long after Mel and Sue pushed Bulshar out of the way like a pair of scolding wives. 

She felt Waverly’s eyes trained on her back as Wynonna and Nedley’s strong arms helped her off the floor and escort her out of the smoky tent and into the sun.

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

 **EXT. Bake Off Tent. Stone bridge over the stream.  
** Waverly sits on the stone wall of the bridge in her now customary post-baking interview spot. She seems uncharacteristically distracted until the crew refocus her attention with a question to begin filming the segment.

 **WAVERLY  
** Wow, Starbaker again! I mean, everyone knows vegan recipes are ‘my thing’ so I felt a LOT of pressure to get things right, but I was also really surprised to get it? ‘Cos Paul really didn’t seem too impressed by my flavours on day one... I can’t believe I cried on National T.V. 

Waverly’s voice trails off, wavering slightly as tears become evident in her eyes. She pushes her hair back over her head roughly, trying to subtly rub her eyes as she goes. 

I was… quite distracted, um, helping Nicole… I mean, when I burned my pie too, I thought it was all over. I’m so happy we both made it through. Oooo. I’m sorry about Mattie though. 

**EXT. Bake Off Tent. Oak tree behind the Bake Off tent  
** Mattie sits on a low hanging branch, her legs confidently crossed in front of her as she leans nonchalantly with her back against the tree trunk.

 **MATTIE  
** I admit it. I felt a little like I was drowning this week. Drowning in chickpea goo. So I’m happy it was this week that will force me back to my own reality, where things make sense and meals are made of meat and blood and bone. Not sorry, Waverly. Or am I? 

Mattie jumped down from her spot dramatically, tipping her head slightly at the interviewer, invisible behind the camera operator. She stared at him, still as a praying mantis while she spoke.

Mark my words. Waverly is chosen for greatness. It won’t come to her though. She’ll need to be brave enough to take it. Like she did this week in the face of Paul’s ridiculous alpha male attitude, she showed what it takes to win. And more power to her.

Mattie paused for a beat, the intensity of her stare wearing down the crew a little, but before they could prompt her for a further and final quote, Mattie provided it for them.

Listen. My biggest takeaway from being here in the Bake Off tent, is never, and I really can’t stress this enough, never, ever, touch aquafaba. In no reality is that an adequate foodstuff. I bet that goo grows in your brain like a parasitic fungus that will blow your brains all over your office wall. You have been warned.

(o_O) ! ┌iii┐

**BEGINNING OF AUTUMN  
** **Robin and Jeremy’s apartment, Vancouver city  
** **THURSDAY**

“Okay, so you’ve all been warned. This story contains more than a little nudity, okay? Female nudity, Jeremy. A _lot_ of T & A…”

Nicole groaned from inside the confines of her own hands super glued to her face. Wynonna had not let up since they’d left Purgatory for the city. She’d sat through hours of driving, multiple toilet stops and most recently an entire dinner with Robin, Jeremy and a clearly tired Mattie who had arrived directly from filming her Extra Slice appearance. They had all politely put up with her friends' antics, which showed no sign of slowing down despite the week’s episode broadcast being imminent. 

“Keep your groans to yourself Red. I am going to tell this story, over and over again, long past the day the buzzards have pecked your bones clean.”

“What?” Jeremy almost squeaked, his eyes flying wide with horror like he’d had an immediate and very graphic premonition of exactly what that would look like.

Peeking briefly through her fingers at Jeremy, Nicole mumbled into the small pocket of air trapped in her palms. “I made the mistake of telling her I want a sky funeral.” 

“Yeah, and also, not the point of this story. Stay focussed Science, jeez.” Wynonna pushed his shoulder gently from the plush settee next to him, determined to continue the story despite everyone else's discomfort. 

“So, last week, after the baby shower, I can’t find my phone, right. So I head on over to the house of gloom…”

Nicole should’ve snapped the gaps between her fingers shut before Wynonna started speaking again. She saw all three of her friends involuntarily glance at her, a form of pity flowing from both Robin and Jeremy’s eyes, and a typically inscrutable look from Mattie that might have been anything from disdain to simple acknowledgement.

“Wynonna…”

Ignoring Nicole’s warning tone completely, Wynonna continued. “So miss ‘law and order’ here has a key in her front garden that took me less than a minute to find. I mean seriously…” Wynonna kicked Nicole’s shin. “...No one in Purgatory has fucking garden gnomes!”

Nicole sighed. “And now neither do I.” she mumbled uselessly. 

Trying to parse out Wynonna’s voice, Nicole let her hands fall away so she could properly look at her surroundings. She had both been avoiding and somehow not avoiding looking at the living room since they’d arrived. It was different but still the same. All the furniture had changed, a TV and matching settees were the opposite way around, but the apartment still felt like home to her. 

_Except Waverly wouldn’t have put the TV cabinet there..._

_She would’ve put Bobo nearer the window so he’d get more light..._

_She would’ve picked a more vibrant colour for the walls..._

Now, her old apartment was Robin and Jeremy’s home.

Not hers.

Not her Moms.

Not hers and Shae’s, and certainly never hers and Waverly’s. 

It was a very particular brand of weirdness, to feel like she was home but also trespassing on someone else's life. Because ever present in the back of her mind, was the picture of what this place might have been, had it ever truly been both hers and Waverly’s.

She chanced a look at her friends. Robin and Jeremy, sitting so close their thighs were in constant contact. Robin’s long arm draped across the back of the couch opposite her, fingers lightly caressing Jeremy’s shoulder as he leaned into his man. She felt a small smile play across her lips at the simple and loving domesticity of it.

Wynonna, sitting on her own in a plush chair that looked like it was fully capable of eating her even in her heavily pregnant state, waved her arms animatedly as she got to the bit of the story she was going to enjoy telling the most.

Mattie, however, was a conundrum, sitting next to Nicole. Not quite looking at Wynonna, not really looking at Robin or Jeremy either. She merely sat with a look of inscrutability on her face. Like she was waiting for something to happen. Or waiting for Nicole to pluck up the courage to just ask her a question outright.

Nicole already knew the answer. There was no way in hell that she was going to ask Mattie how Waverly was doing out at her forge in Sooke. If Waverly couldn’t be bothered to respond to her messages, despite their drunken origin, then she wasn’t going to pry.

“...and that’s where I found her. Buck naked, ass saluting the sun on her own bathroom floor!”

Wynonna was crying laughing at this point, barely able to force words past her lips. “The goddamn cat was asleep in her pants round her ankles. She had a hand up under her, cradling her own boob while the other one was squashed flatter than a mammogram on the tile!”

“Okay, well we might just go get some desserts for everyone, you know, before the show starts.” Jeremy and Robin both stood rapidly, avoiding eye contact which only made Wynonna laugh even harder.

But Nicole knew that the laughter masked the reality of that morning. 

A truer telling of the story would have recounted how Wynonna had helped her off the bathroom floor and into the shower. How she had helped her to get dressed and then eat a little. With each small gesture Wynonna had made, Nicole’s heart had clenched and relaxed, over and over in a synthetic beat that pumped wave after wave of tears out of her as her brain danced somersaults that were part hangover, but mostly delayed heartbreak. 

Wynonna had held her throughout. Without comment or judgement. Without snark or deflection. Finally, Wynonna had put her to bed with a surprising light kiss to her forehead. 

Wynonna was her best infuriating friend. Nicole loved her. So she told her so, and Wynonna had let her, even though she had made a flippant remark about getting it on a bumper sticker. 

Saying it had felt so damn good. 

It was a strong first stitch sewn into her bleeding heart.

So who was she to begrudge her friend a tall tale in the name of post-dinner, pre-show banter.

“It was absolutely, LEGENDARY. Look…”

“Wait, you took PICTURES?!” Nicole hadn’t accounted for the intensity of the Universe’s influence over Wynonna. Her arms flew out, failing to snatch at Wynonna’s phone as Mattie snorted loudly beside her.

“Of course not, Narcy Narc. Even though the world _deserves_ to perv at those abs of yours, I have some class.”

“Class? Really?” Nicole’s incredulous tone only egged Wynonna on.

“Wynonna, you licked your roast potatoes, inhaled your steak and quaffed all the lemonade before the rest of us had even tried Jeremy’s amous-bouche!” 

Wynonna held her hand to her heart. “I know. All class. All the time.”

A loud **Bvbvbvb** **Bvbvbvb** noise fell from Nicole’s pocket while she half-heartedly fought Wynonna for her phone.

“SEX EMERGENCY!” Wynonna cried out, followed by the sound of a porcelain bowl crashing to the ground in the kitchen.

“It’s okay. We’re fine. There’s only a little blood!” Robin called out helpfully from the kitchen.

Nicole only partially heard the exchange of her friends as both Wynonna and Mattie rose to check on the pair. Because she had taken her phone out of her pocket. The screen lit up, bright and uncompromising notification green. 

_Waverly..._

A text from Waverly.

Her thumb hovered over the unlock button on her phone, indecision stopping it from falling. The screen went blank again, and still Nicole had not moved.

A lifetime passed in which the voices of her friends continued, her breath froze in her lungs. Then, the screen roared back to life, brightly displaying the full text of the message to her again, startling her so badly, she dropped the phone to the coffee table with a harsh clatter.

_**Bvbvbvb**_

_**Bvbvbvb**_

Waverly Earp ⛈  
6.47pm:   
_Hi Nicole…  
_ _I got your messages last week...  
_ _You were pretty drunk!...  
_ _I guess I just wanted to check that you’re okay?_

The single stitch in her heart ripped out. 

She was bleeding again. 

Her friends returned to the room with dessert bowls in hand. One landed unceremoniously in her lap.

She barely noticed.

Conversation carried on around her as the blood seeped, bright red and unrelenting through her shirt and she pretended everything was fine. 

“What is it Haughtdog?”

Nicole heard the question. She just couldn’t react to it.

She watched as Mattie leaned forward, another curious expression on her face. She tapped the screen on Nicole’s abandoned phone, bring up Waverly’s oh so casual words for Nicole to read for a third fucking time.

“Ah. Waverly finally radioed in.”

“What?” Wynonna threw her dessert aside as she grabbed the phone.

_Why now?_

_What’s changed?_

_And ‘okay’? She wants to ‘check that I’m okay’?_

_Why the FUCK would I be okay?_

Nicole’s thoughts swirled as Mattie continued talking about sailing into Nanaimo that morning, with Waverly by her side.

_Wait…_

_Waverly’s here?_

_Waverly’s in the city?_

“Waverly can sail?” Jeremy interjected, focussing on an entirely different aspect of Mattie’s story.

“Yes. I taught her on our many trips in and out of the harbour in Nanaimo. When she wasn’t writing in the little cabin behind the forge she was learning everything she could. I think she found it… calming.”

“Who cares!” Wynonna loudly interjected. “Where is she staying? Why isn’t she here? Why didn’t she…” Then she stopped talking, abruptly. Sad eyes staring straight into Nicole’s.

Waverly was in the city and she had text Nicole, not her pregnant sister.

Nicole was vaguely aware of the opening theme of Bake Off beginning to play, near muted in the background but loud in the suddenly quiet room. The concerned looks on the faces of her friends deepened. Well, they did on Robin, Jeremy and Wynonna’s face. Mattie kept tucking into her dessert like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Nicole huffed in frustration with them, “Jesus. It’s not like we were married, guys...”

“You couldn’t get married even if you wanted to.” Mattie piped up before taking a hefty swig of wine. Everyone stared in silence at her as she swirled the liquid in her mouth, before finally swallowing, waiting not very patiently for the resolution to the unexpected cliffhanger.

Mattie took her time, quite oblivious to the silent and shocked reactions around her.

“Uh, care to un-vague that up for us Mattie?” Wynonna implored.

“Waverly’s already married.” 

Nicole felt the world drop away.   
  


Waverly would never be hers. 

  
  


She had chosen someone else. 

  
  


_Waverly’s gone..._

  
  


The image of what her life might have been with Waverly in it, faded from view.

She took one last look around the room and the future she had once imagined here with Waverly. It all crumbled before her eyes, leaving only an image of an open door.

She watched as the door closed in her face.

******* ******* *******

 **THREE YEARS PRIOR  
** **Natalie Haught’s Hospice room**

Nicole opened the door.

Her Mom may as well have already been lying in state. She had a plain white sheet pulled up under her arms. A thin cord trailed out beside her catheter line to a small machine placed under the bed.

Another two chairs had been placed in the room, her large comfy reclining chair had been removed. Suddenly the room was devoid of her Mom’s personality. It had become stark, clinical and inevitable.

Nicole pulled a hard, unyielding chair close to the bed and stared at her Mom. Her breath was shallow but unlaboured. Reaching out, she took her Mom's hand and registered no reaction. No squeeze of reassurance. There was nothing to indicate that there was anything left of her mother at all.

“Oh, Mom…”

For a long, long time, nothing happened.

So Nicole waited.

~~~~~~~~

Eventually, a small squeeze of Nicole’s hand had her shooting up out of the seat and leaning over her Mom’s prone form.

“Mom, I’m here. I’m here. You’re good. I’m here.” Repeated over and over again as her Mom’s eyes fluttered open briefly, the whites showing as they rolled around unable to focus.

“Mom? Hey, there you are. You’re still here, yay you!”

Nicole’s smile reached from ear to ear. She waved her hands in a small approximation of their shared victory dance and Nicole was overjoyed that it seemed to pull a small smile for the frail woman before her.

“Ha - don barras me ‘Co…” Natalie’s face winced in pain as she spoke the hard ‘C’ sound.

“Hey, shhh. Mom, Don’t talk if it hurts. I’m here. I won’t leave.”

“Don’…” Her Mom tried to shake her head.

“Mom, I’m gonna be here. I’m not leaving you. I will wait right here, for however long...”

“Whhha…” She managed a soft croak even though it clearly pained her and took a lot of energy and concentration to verbalise.. “Wha’ happen?”

Natalie Haught’s question was the last thing Nicole’s ears heard fall from her Mother’s mouth.

“I don’t know Mom. Shhhh, I’m here. I love you. Go back to sleep.”

So, Nicole waited some more.

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~

  
  
  


She waited for her mother’s breathing to slow.

  
  


She waited for the random jerks of her hands to still.

  
  


She waited for the carafe of water to be refilled. 

  
  


She waited to sleep.

  
  


She waited for Shae to return. To leave. To return again. And again.

  
  


She waited for the nurses and doctors to check her Mom, to change the catheter bag that was always empty so she was never sure why they bothered.

  
  


She waited for the slow sawing inhalations to quieten but they just got louder, more insistent, more ingrained into her psyche.

  
  


She waited for her mother’s last breath.

  
  
  
  


She waited a really long time.

  
  
  
  
  


She waited for eight days.  
  


~~~~~~~~  
  


_Nurses’ intuition is shit._

After waiting eight long days at her mother’s side, leaving only to visit the bathroom or make coffee or nibble on dried biscuits, Nicole realised that silence is the worst sound in all of existence. 

The doctor’s assured her on each of the eight days that it was painless, the medication constantly fed to her assured it, they said. 

They also said ‘not long now’ on day one. 

And day two. 

And day three.

They stopped on day four.  
  


~~~~~~~~

  
  


_My Mom’s gone..._

  
  


~~~~~~~~

Nicole still printed ‘died peacefully…’ in the newspaper.

It was the biggest lie she had ever told.

******* ******* *******

 **PRESENT DAY  
** **Robin and Jeremy’s apartment, Vancouver city**

“That’s a fucking lie!” Wynonna was the first to react to Mattie’s bombshell.

“What?” Mattie seemed oblivious as to the impact of her words.

“WHAT THE SHIT, MATTIE!?” Robin and Jeremy shouted in unison.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Waverly married a skull last week.” 

“Waverly… Waverly married a _skull_?” Nicole could hear the words, and understand their meaning but the fuck did that sentence mean, exactly?

_Waverly’s married?_

_Waverly married a skull?_

_What the FUCK is my life?_

“There’s a local coven who comes in to use my forge space on full moons.” Mattie continued as if she hadn’t just dropped unexploded ordnance in the middle of the room. “Something about being close to iron and brimstone. They chant and sway about, generally making noise about cursing exes and the like. Waverly being Waverly joined in last week. She taught them how to pronounce the Latin correctly.”

“Of course she did.” Wynonna slumped back in her chair with an audible “Ooof” while her hands rubbed at her eyes like they might somehow be able to see through the fog and understand everything that had happened in the last ten minutes.

“They cast a spell to help her find her way in the world but I’m pretty sure she just straight up married the skull. They called her ‘The keeper of the bones’”. 

“Wynonna?” Nicole called her best friend, desperate for some sort of grounding as her mind tried to return from the darker memories portion of her brain. She could feel the air leaving her body in increasingly shorter breaths. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint. “I don’t know what to do with that. Wy, what do I do with that?” 

“Nothing Haught-stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“I… Shit, I’m sorry guys. Would you excuse me for just a second. I ah… I need some air.” 

She was out of sight before the sentence had finished leaving her lips and out her old front door before she could hear if anyone was following her.

Knowing the area as well as she did, Nicole was able to duck down a narrow alley, cut through the back of the market and jog across the park. She moved as if she would be tailed, desperate for space and air, anonymity and solitude. 

Nicole was overwhelmed with a profound and overwhelming feeling of loss. Not even the vacuum of her apartment after Shae had left, had felt as soul destroying as this. The only thing she had felt that even remotely compared was her mother’s death.

The worst part was, she didn’t even know why.

_Because Waverly married a skull?_

_You’re fucking ridiculous, Haught! Get a hold of yourself. Jesus, just breathe!_

Nicole tried the breathing exercises Wynonna had taught her from their yoga mornings. She grounded herself through concentrating on her weight pressing through the soles of her shoes into the concrete. She felt the rough texture of her jeans under her fingertips as she placed her hands on her thighs. She stretched her hearing out to take in the distant sounds of traffic. Then pulled it back until all she heard was birdsong, then wind rustling leaves, and finally. Only her breath.

“You know, you’re not very good at giving people the slip Nicole.”

Wynonna’s voice shattered her calm. How the hell had a heavily pregnant woman found her so quickly in a city she’d never lived in?

“Fuck! Me! Wynonna! I just about had a heart attack.”

“No thanks. Besides, weren’t you already having one?” She asked, only half joking. She gestured to Nicole’s stance.

“Classic mindfulness pose.” Wynonna began to carefully descend to the ground holding her belly as her legs bent ready for the inevitable collapse.

“No, wait, I’ll get up…” Nicole tried to protest.

“Fuck off Haught, I can sit on the damn ground if I want to!”

“Okay...”

“Okay!”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

“I always do.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“I love our conversations Wynonna. We should start a podcast.” Nicole deadpanned

Wynonna snorted. “What would we call it? Wynaught bake a Porno? Actually. I’d listen to that.”

Nicole rolled her eyes then allowed their traditional comfortable silence to lapse, knowing Wynonna would say her piece when she was good and ready. Now traditional, the silence was the calm before the storm, a minor oasis of peace before the words that needed to be said were released from captivity.

“Wynonna? Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot your shot Haught. I think I know what you wanna ask.”

“Did you talk to Waverly? You know, after you found me that night?”

Wynonna’s sigh confirmed all of Nicole’s fears in a single exhalation of air.

“So she doesn’t really want to know how I am. Her first text in fucking MONTHS, and it’s just a casual ‘hey, Nicole. How are you’?”

“I… I don’t know what to say to you.” Wynonna raised her hands in the air, frustration evident but it wasn’t for her. “I don’t know what’s going on with baby girl. Since she left I’ve had a few messages, and a call or two, but that’s all. I was actually surprised when she answered tonight.”

“You called her _tonight_?”

“Yeah. She seemed pretty upset”.

“Upset? Why.”

“I think she’s been in a pretty dark place and she just hasn’t known how to reach out, or something?”

Nicole looked away, understanding unwelcomely wrapping around her heart.

“Which I kind of get actually.” Nicole confessed. “I never tried to call her either, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“The note asked me to leave her be. So… I did.”

“Jesus, Haught. Your chivalry is a straight-jacket, you know?” 

Nicole just nodded, well aware of her own part in the unravelling of their relationship. “I feel like Waverly’s only just working out who she really is, what she truly wants from her time on this earth and I… It’s not my place to sway her, or influence her. She needs the time and the space. Obviously, otherwise she would've called. Or, god, even written.”

Nicole started digging uselessly into the sandy track beneath her feet. She joined a looping trench together, creating a protective moat around the small piece of dirt she was about to pour her most desperate feeling into.

“Sometimes people need to go, Wynonna.” 

She thought about her Mother. The slow inexorable decline. Her complete inability to stop the machinery of death. 

She thought about Waverly, and how love matters less than the weight of a feather when wings stretch out, ready to see if they’re strong enough to carry you over the cliff in flight.

“Sometimes, all you get to do is love them for who they are, and then... let them go.” 

Wynonna’s stillness drew Nicole’s eyes to her like a magnet. Curiously, her eyes were closed like she was concentrating hard to understand what Nicole had just said. 

Nicole waited a beat.

And another.

Then a third.

Wynonna’s eyes fluttered open and she looked, really looked at Nicole. She looked with utter (unconditional) love. “You’re done waiting?”

“Yes.” Nicole answered, with something that felt in her gut like it might be honesty.

“Mom made me promise. To let her go. To live and not let living break me, and I really, really tried but I couldn't do it without imagining her in my life. Having her talk to me, in here..." She tapped her skull. "...it let me pretend that nothing had changed when everything had." 

Wynonna remained silent, just nodding her head along. 

"She's been quiet though. Barely a word since... since even before the argument with Waverly, and... I think I know why. When Mom... died. I latched so hard onto Shae..."

"Nipple fetish?"

"No, Wynonna! Jesus." But Nicole laughed all the same.

“When Shae left, I had no one. There was no one to call and talk it through so I just held on tighter, even when she made it damn clear she wasn’t coming back. Now, I’ve got you, and Jeremy, Robin, and Nedley. I haven’t had anyone for a really long time.” 

Nicole allowed the sentence to die out, unsure how Wynonna would react to what she wanted to say.

“Mom told me. She said ‘find someone to fight the universe with’, and... I never really understood how I was supposed to make that happen. Not until the Earp sisters crashed landed into my ass.”

“You wanna fight the universe with us, Haught?”

“Yeah. I wanna fight back at the power that hates Haughts so much it keeps taking more than it gives, and… and I wanna _destroy_ whatever the damned ‘Earp’ curse is too. So I’m afraid. I’m afraid of letting Waverly go in case it means I lose you too.”

“Me? Earp’s are harder to lose than a barnacle up a seahorse’s ass.”

“But I’ve already lost one Earp.” She turned to look at Wynonna. “I can’t lose you too.” Tears threatened to fall as Wynonna squirmed under her attention.

“I can let Waverly go. I can survive it. I won’t be the same but I’ll live. As long as you’re here, and... as long as you don’t set fire to me.” Nicole joked. A deliberate ploy so she could hide a sniff under Wynonna’s tension easing bark of laughter.

“I can’t promise you a lack of fire in your future Nicole...” Wynonna sighed before replying softly. “...and you know I’m ‘ride-or-die’ for Waverly…”

Disappointment sank low in Nicole’s chest. 

“...but I’m also ‘ride-or-die’ for you too. You’re a part of Purgatory now. No one leaves. No one escapes.”

“Except Waverly.”

“Yeah, but she deserves to.”

“Yeah, she does.”

They sat quietly for a moment before Wynonna asked the question Nicole could see she was trying to decide if she would ask or not.

“Do you regret it?”

“Going on Bake Off?”

“No. Moving. To Purgatory.” Wynonna wasn’t looking at her, avoiding eye contact.

Nicole answered quickly. Firm and unrepentant, her resolve was clear. 

“No. Because I needed this. I did it explicitly for me, and it _was_ selfish. The only thing I regret is not talking to Waverly about the fact that I was going to do it. I love it there. Would it be better if Waverly was there with me? Of course, but I went for me, for my own wellbeing. I can’t regret making a choice for me, and me alone for the first time in forever.”

“Okay Elsa, I think I get it. So you don’t regret it. Maybe you _should_ have told Waverly, but… also, maybe you owe her an answer?” Wynonna reached into her jacket and pulled out the phone Nicole had abandoned on the coffee table before she had run out on dinner. 

“Take your time Haught-button. I’m going to wander back so Jeremy stops having the conniption you _know_ he’s having right now. Come home soon ‘kay?”

_Home. Huh._

_Home is people, isn’t it?_

_That’s why home was so easy to find in Purgatory._

_Right Mom?_

Nicole sighed into the silence. “Yeah. I’ll…” She shook the phone, smiling wanly at Wynonna. “...I’ll catch up to you.” 

Wynonna nodded. Acceptance of the inevitable on her face.

Nicole unlocked the phone and opened up her message stream.

Waverly Earp ⛈  
6.47pm:   
_Hi Nicole…  
_ _I got your messages last week...  
_ _You were pretty drunk!...  
_ _I guess I just wanted to check that you’re okay?_

“Am I okay? Fuck, Waverly…” Nicole sighed again, and took a moment to truly think about the question.

_Am I okay?_

_What does okay look like?_

_Am I feeding myself?_

_Am I sleeping?_

_Do I enjoy my new job?_

_Yes!_

_Yes to all of the above._

_Am I okay?_

Her thumbs began typing out the second biggest lie she had ever told.

But then she tapped the backspace button three times, and typed the second biggest truth she had ever told instead.

Nicole  
7.25pm:  
 _No._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m just a not-a-girl, hiding behind the Twitter handle @planethunterao3, asking you to trust me…


	9. What Have I Done To Deserve Thistle Tea? (by the Pet Shop Boysenberry Roulades feat. Dusty Springerle Cookie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which European pâtisserie trends do nothing to help anyone, and an epic GTA leads to ultimate Bakedaggeddon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter directly correlates to what I imagine you all think after reading these weekly updates.

“

 _Since you went away  
_ _I’ve been hangin’ around  
_ _I've been wondering why I'm feeling down  
_ _You went away, it should make me feel better  
_ _But I don't know, oh  
_ _How’m I gonna get through?_

“

 **PÂTISSERIE WEEK  
** **Bake Off Quarter Final  
  
** ****

( o˘◡˘o) ┌iii┐  
  


 **INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** ‘Bakewell Counting’ plays.

 **SUE  
** (Voiceover)  
 _Last week on the Great British-Columbia Bake Of..._

Wynonna leans over her workstation to push Paul’s hand closer to his mouth, encouraging him to take another bite of her vegan pie. As his face twists, chewing another mouthful, Wynonna’s attention turns to Mary. 

**WYNONNA  
** Mmmmm! Good, right? Scrumptious! But it's better with the ketchup glaze!”

 **MARY  
** (Unconvinced)  
You’re right. It is... better...”

 **PAUL  
** (Incredulous)  
Better than what? A car crash?”

 **CUT.  
** Paul talking with Mattie over her workstation. We see Paul’s confused face and Mattie trying to look as innocent as possible.

 **PAUL  
** Has this got Worcestershire sauce in it?

 **SUE  
** (Voiceover continues…)  
 _Vegan pies proved to be the undoing of more than one baker._

Paul stands by expectantly, waiting for Mattie to confirm his suspicions.

 **MATTIE  
** Uh, it’s… homeopathic Worcestershire sauce. It only contains the _memory_ of fish…

Paul stares at her, perplexed.

 **SUE  
** (Voiceover continues…)  
 _But it hits one baker particularly hard_

The camera shakes, like it’s rubbernecking to try and get a better view of an accident victim, but Wynonna’s crouched body is an effective shield and they can’t get a good shot of Nicole’s prone form, sitting on the floor.

 **WYNONNA  
** (softly)  
Hey. This will pass

Nicole, still shielded by Wynonna, can be heard sniffling quietly. Not getting the shot the crew were after, they instead pan to a panicked looking Waverly. She removes Nicole’s burned pie from her oven, smoke billowing out of the open door.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Whispering)  
Oh God…

Waverly is quickly joined by Mattie and Jeremy while Nedley hovers behind Wynonna, further shielding Nicole from the crew.

 **JEREMY  
** Is she all right?

 **MATTIE  
** What’s going on?

 **NEDLEY  
** We’re here Nicole. We’ve got you.

 **EXT. BAKE OFF TENT - STONE BRIDGE  
** Nicole sits on the stone bridge where Waverly would normally be interviewed. The sun isn’t dappling through the low hanging tree branches. Everything seems a little duller. Less bright.

Music: ‘Sparkle’ plays:

 **NICOLE  
** (Reluctant, hesitant and less bright than usual)  
Yeah, last week was something I really don’t want to dwell too long on. I’m… okay. I had a death in the family a little while ago and some of that kinda caught up with me a little bit, so it wasn’t really about the pie. I feel really lucky to still be here after that. Paul and Mary liked my flavours so I’m hoping to keep up that reputation in Pâtisserie week.

 **WYNONNA  
** (Exuding confidence and snark)  
Reputation? This is the quarter finals [bleeper bleeper]! I bet you all didn’t think I would make it this far did ya! Well, I’m here and I’m going to bake this thunderdome to the ground!

Shots of busy bakers hunched over their workstations as they all fold and roll puff pastry sheets and attempt to assemble delicate examples of Boat tarts and eclair.

**INT. BAKE OFF TENT**

**MEL  
** (Voiceover)  
 _Now, it’s the quarter finals and Pâtisserie week means the bakers will really have to push the boat out to stay in the competition._

Wynonna shouts to the heavens as another meringue tube cracks as she tries to get it off the baking tray.

 **WYNONNA  
** I [bleeping] HATE MERINGUE! 

Nedley’s soft voice draws in Sue, her eyebrow raised in a silent question. Nedley simply looks back in silence at her until a single word is uttered as the entirety of their conversation.

 **NEDLEY  
** [Bleep]

 **NICOLE  
** _(nervously addressing both Mary and Paul)  
_ I really don’t think you should eat that…” 

**PAUL HOLLYWOOD  
** (Indignant)  
We have to! We’re judging you!” 

Paul takes a bite of pastry and immediately spits it into his hand while a wide-eyed and shocked Nicole looks on

 **PAUL  
** No, you’re right. Mary. Don’t eat that.

Paul stares silently at Nicole for a few seconds before finally passing judgement

 **PAUL  
** How very disappointing.  
  


(￣ ￣|||) ┌iii┐  
  


 **SUMMER  
** **Crofte Castle, Gardner Estate  
** **LAST SUNDAY  
** **(After filming the Vegan showstopper)**

“Was this because of me?” 

Waverly spoke so softly into the long silent room. Nicole wasn’t sure if she had just imagined the words at first, but Waverly had said them sounding scared of her own voice actually speaking the question aloud. Her hand carded through Nicole’s hair absentmindedly, like she did most nights they were together and each gentle movement wove calmness into Nicole, a calmness that threatened to evaporate if she ever stopped touching her. 

“Did I do this to you?” Waverly spoke again, earnest with the desire to understand.

Nicole didn’t know how long they had lain on her bed in Crofte Castle after the filming of the Vegan Showstoppers and post judgement interviews. All eyes had been on her when she had come back for filming with Wynonna walking supportively behind her, no doubt glaring at everyone with a look of pure (cold) steel as several of the crew withered away in fear before her.

Nicole had caught Waverly’s eyes ever so briefly and her heart leapt, struggling up high in her chest like a drowning puppy desperate to reach air. Waverly had looked so lost and frightened and there was nothing she could do or say as the crew began filming judgements immediately to make up for the lost time.

She had shaken her head at Waverly, meaning it to say ‘ _I’m okay. We can talk later. I promise’,_ but judging by the look that brought a cloud thundering down on her face, Waverly had taken the gesture as rejection. The whole afternoon was a blur, an experience that only consisted of waiting for the chance to talk to Waverly.

As soon as the cameras were off after Waverly’s post Star baker interview, Nicole had walked right up to her, heedless of anyone watching, taken her hand and walked with purpose straight to their room in the Castle. Safely ensconced inside, Nicole had found herself suddenly devoid of words. Her mouth opened and closed so many times, but nothing escaped.

So Waverly had retaken her hand and led her to the bed. Lying down, she opened her arms and Nicole had gratefully sunk into them, resting her face in her favourite place in the world; the crook of Waverly’s neck. 

They lay there still. Both awake, both unable to break the silence despite the grumbling of tummies thanks to the smell of dinner wafting in the open window. Until Waverly had found the courage to speak first.

“Is it because I couldn’t... say…” Waverly’s blessed hands froze in her hair. Nicole’s heart froze in her chest.

_Oh, no… She thinks…_

“...because I didn’t want you to say… ‘it’.” Waverly’s hand jerked a little, tugging her hair as the word ‘it’ was forced through her mouth. It was too hard, too sharp. Nicole winced and Waverly let the first of her tears fall, as if Nicole had confirmed her fears with a single hissing intake of breath. 

“No, no Waverly, this isn’t you. I promise. I… should have talked to you about this earlier. Goddammit I hate it when Wynonna is right.”

“Wynonna knows? I mean, she said she knew what was going on so… I guess you talked to _her_ about this?” Waverly couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. Nicole needed to see her. To look into her face as they talked so she sat up, encouraging Waverly to come with her and sit leaning back against the headboard. Nicole took her hand again, bringing it up to her lips, kissing their entwined fingers to ground her before she spoke again.

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to but she kind of prised it out of me with that icy-death-glare she’s got going for her.” Her voice trailed away as she fought for the next words she wanted, but all that came out was a sorry party. “Waverly, I’m so, so sorry you had to see that, I…”

“Nicole, no. Don’t you dare.” Waverly grabbed both her hands, tugging them violently towards her body, pulling Nicole in until their foreheads bumped together. “We can’t _do_ this if you’re going to insist on white knight bullshit. I’m here, and I stay, and if you’re not ready to say anything I can’t force you but it’s killing me that you’re obviously in this much pain and I don’t even know _why_ …”

“My Mom died, Waverly.” Nicole screwed her eyes shut, finding herself embarrassed to be taking up her girlfriends time with her pain. Waverly didn’t need all this added to her already burdened shoulders and all Nicole could feel was shame for bringing this anywhere near her. “That’s all this is. It’s so fucking stupid. It was three years ago for god's sake and I’ve never… I’ve never had a _panic attack_ about it before!”

“Is that what… that was?”

“Wynonna thinks so. The on-set doctor too. They told me to go see a shrink, and Shae fucking told me to go see one too and I swear to god if you say the same thing, I’m gonna…”

“Gonna what Nicole? Asking for help isn’t a crime!” Waverly leaned away from her, incredulity dancing across her face.

“ _Everyone_ loses their parents, Waverly! It’s a natural part of life, and I was so lucky! My mom loved me, and accepted me and... I got so much time with her. It’s not like she left…” 

_Like your mom…_

“...It’s not like she was… taken…”

_Like your sister._

_Like your Dad._

Nicole left the words unspoken but Waverly’s face told her she had filled in the blanks pretty easily, because she darted back, flinching away. “Why did you say that? Why did you say that, _like_ that?”

“Waverly…” Nicole realised she had defaulted into the same tone that Shae had always taken so much umbrage with. The tone that said, _‘I don’t want to answer that’_ , _‘I don’t have time for your very pertinent and uncomfortable question’_ , and _‘I’d rather keep this to myself than let you in on what I really feel’_. 

Nicole noticed it. Really noticed it. How it sounded hanging in the air. How it tasted on her tongue, and she hated herself for letting that dismissive sound anywhere near Waverly.

So Nicole paused, consciously, as Waverly seemed to shrink back into herself, drawing her clouds about her like a safety cushion. 

Then she confessed.

“Wynonna told me what happened. When you were kids. At the Homestead.” 

Waverly was shaking her head, side to side in denial before the words had finished tripping off Nicole’s lips.

“How _dare_ she! How _dare she_ tell you my story!” 

“She didn’t tell _your_ story. She was very careful to only tell me _hers_. You just happened… to be in it too.” 

“Did she tell you about Willa?” 

“Yeah. That she was abducted…” 

“Did she tell you how she used to torture me? How I nearly died on an iced over lake due to her negligence? How she nearly killed me in a dare to walk a high beam in our barn?" 

“What? No, I…” 

“Did she tell you that I was always ignored? That no one bothered to read my report cards? That not even Wynonna remembers my birthday?” Waverly wasn’t even looking at her anymore. The cloud had slammed down over her face, a purple maelstrom of raw hurt and anger. 

“No, Waverly I… She told me what happened to her that night, and… after, but only that. She was very careful. I think she knew you weren’t ready and I would never pry, but it _is_ why I feel so fucking stupid!”

This time, it was Nicole who turned away, kicking her legs off the side of the bed so she could sit with her head in her hands.

“My mom died, Waverly, and… I can’t let her go. That’s all there is to this. She’s stopped talking to me in my head, and I feel like I’m never going to remember what she sounded like, and I lost… I lost her ashes and I have so few pictures of her but, god. She loved me. I know she loved me and I was so happy....”

She sat in silence willing better words to come to her. Waverly remained silent on the other side of the bed but she could feel movement and before long, Waverly had kneeled behind her, a comforting weight pressing her shoulders down as Waverly’s arms encircled her and her head took its turn to nestle into Nicole’s neck.

Nicole cried. 

Great big sobbing tears as her girlfriend held her. Her wondrous, kind, inspiring girlfriend, who she loved with every ounce of her being, who was comforting her for a three year old loss that couldn’t even remotely compare to the trauma she experienced in her own young life.

Waverly waited, through the sobs. She hummed a soft, soothing tune that Nicole recognised but couldn’t quite place in the moment. As she grasped at the memory, she found her tears losing their power. They quietened to slow, wet sniffles she could no more hide than she could hide her love for her Waverly. 

Then, falling softly into the quiet, Waverly spoke soft words of wonder into Nicole’s neck. Soft words that travelled into her soul.

“Losing a parent is not a little thing. It’s a common thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not powerful, life altering, damaging or not important. It doesn’t matter how it happens. You are allowed your grief. You are allowed to feel what you feel.”

Nicole turned in Waverly’s arms, wanting to believe her words, wanting, desperately for Waverly to realise what she had said.

“I feel… so damn much, but… I can’t say… the words.”

Nicole could tell that Waverly knew exactly what she meant. Her cloud remained resolute. A single tear tracking its way down her face.

_I love you, Waverly Earp._

_I’ll never stop.  
  
_

(╥﹏╥)  
  


 **SUMMER  
** **Week leading to Pâtisserie  
** **Vancouver Doctor’s Clinic  
** **TUESDAY**

They’d tried to make it less imposing. 

Nicole was fairly sure all physicians wore smug, self-satisfied auras in part because they thought throwing a few 80s themed art prints on the wall and a ‘very hungry caterpillar’ painted at child height contributed to ‘calming interior decorating’. It was all bullshit. Only the energy of the people in a room mattered, which was why patient waiting rooms the world over were such oppressively dour places to waste hours of your life in. Everyone there was waiting to find out something. Something small that ultimately boiled down to ‘good news’ or ‘bad news’. The details barely mattered.

When her name was finally called a good forty minutes after her appointment time, she practically raced into the examination room, despite Doctor Reggie ranking very high on her creep-o-meter. Her nickname auto tag system had immediately assigned him (dickwad) at their first appointment.

“So, Nicole. How’s the arm been since we last met? Keeping up with the grip exercises?”

Taking off her jacket, Nicole blushed as she remembered exactly how she had adapted them to make the chore more interesting.

“Uhhhhhhh, yeah. I have actually. You might say I’ve gone above and beyond. That’s kind of why I’m here.” Nicole noted Reggie had barely looked up from his clipboard. The power of admin making him oblivious to Nicole’s blushes.

“Oh?” He questioned non-commitantly and he continued to scrawl away.

“Um…my upper arm is quite numb still…”

“Well, that _is_ to be expected with blunt-force trauma.”

“Yeah, I know, but there’s a lot more pain. The numbness goes down into my wrist and my fingers are… not as dextrous as I know they used to be.” Nicole finished her explanation in a rush, hoping he would focus on the pain part.

“Less dextrous? How so? Are you an artist?”

“Not really. I mean, I used to spray paint murals and stuff and I bake a bit…”

“Huh. Sorry, not important. It’s just most people who notice changes like that turn out to be painters or sculptors. What activities are you having trouble with?”

_Fuck. Literal, fuck_

“Oh, um.” Nicole cleared her throat as she metaphorically put on her big girl pants.

“Okay, listen. I’ve got a new girlfriend and we’re spending a _lot_ of time together and there’s just… a few things that I can’t do as well as I used to and it’s really beginning to get me down…”

“Down? Down where?”

_This man is the literal definition of ‘moron’ or he’s toying with me. Either way, I don’t care for it._

The man’s small smirk dropped instantly from his face when he finally looked up into the gaze of a decidedly unamused off-duty police officer. Which made the entire process of the physical examination of her arm and the series of exercises he ran through with her all the more awkward.

“Okay, uh, I think it would be worth doing electromyography to determine if there is nerve damage and we can plan for treatment.”

“So, it can be treated?” Relief flooded Nicole’s voice as she spoke for the first time since explaining her symptoms.

“In most cases, yes. Surgery is an option, which has a high success rate. In the meantime, keep taking the analgesics.”

Nicole zoned out a little after that. There was treatment available. A plan to be made, a path to walk down. She could get better and not have to worry anyone about it. Unless she needed surgery. She probably wouldn’t be able to hide that from many people. 

The relief she felt was palpable. Her worry was only nominally about ‘performance anxiety’. The fact that the thought even crossed her mind at all considering all the options she had available to her that _didn’t_ involve her hands, made her blush. But the little nagging thought that somehow she was disappointing Waverly, or that she was somehow ‘less than’ her best self for her girlfriend nagged at her deeply enough that she often zoned out worrying about it. Like right now. 

“Nicole?”

“Uh, sorry. What was the question?”

“I need to ask you some questions about your personal history?” Reggie fumbled his clipboard as Nicole sent him her coldest stare.

“My personal history? What’s that got to do with the price of toast Reggimite?” 

“Uhh, I just need t.. t.. to record… for the admin. Um, do you have any significant stresses in your life at the moment?”

_What the fuck dude? Do you wanna know about the effect the anniversary of my mother’s death is having on my mental health? Or maybe the stress of filming a hugely popular TV show every weekend? Maybe you’re actually psychic and can tell how much Waverly means to me and how much I need to tell her I love her, even though she won’t let me say it out loud?_

“No, not that I can think of.” She deadpanned to him. “Can I go now?”

“Yes!” He practically shouted in relief. “Let me know if these medications begin to negatively affect you in any way. As a doctor, I have to ensure you’re in no pain, so, uh, it’s important to have a healthy and open patient-doctor dialogue.”

She nodded along as he slipped into lecture mode.

“These are pretty high dosages but we can easily make adjustments or change brands if you start falling asleep everywhere again, okay?”

“Sure thing. I’ve got the clinic number. I’ll ring if anything goes... loopy.”

“Good. Well, I’ll see you next week for the EMG.”

Nicole took the appointment card and left the room already descending into a curious gloom. On the one hand, she was happy that there seemed to be an avenue to explore for getting better. On the other, there were more meds to take, more appointments to attend and ultimately, more lies of omission to not tell Waverly.

_This is where you cut in Mom._

There was nothing but resounding, somehow petulant, silence knocking about in her head.

_Fine, I’ll do your lines for you: ‘Cole-’Cole, don’t be a dick. Talk to your girlfriend.’_

_I don’t wanna Ma._

_‘Okay, well don’t then.’_

_Good. I won’t. I’m glad you agree with me._

_‘What are Moms for, ‘Cole. Just carry on as you are. Everything will be fine’._

_Thanks Mom. That’s everything I wanted to hear._

Nicole was so lost in her own head she didn’t hear her own name being called out behind her until a hand clapped on her shoulder.

“Nicole! Hi!”

“Oh hey Jeremy.” Nicole was genuinely pleased, if surprised, to see him in the waiting room. She took a vacant seat next to him, keen to catch up and let their inevitable easy conversation distract her a little.

“Are you getting your hand checked out?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping it’ll be my last appointment. Look…” He held out the hand for Nicole to look. His surgeon had done an excellent job. Minimal incisions had meant a low number of stitches had been needed. The wounds themselves had begun to heal nicely and Nicole could tell the scars would fade over time. 

Jeremy wiggled his fingers, showing off the movement he was capable of. “I’m almost as good as new. How about you?” Jeremy gestured towards Nicole’s arm, a hopeful smile brightening his face as he noticed the lack of arm brace.

“Ah. Not quite so good I’m afraid. Might need surgery to deal with some possible nerve damage.”

“Seriously? Aw, not cool man. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, It’ll be fine. There’s treatment available. It’s just going to take longer to sort out than I’d hoped. I just have to be careful with it.”

“I get it. It’s kinda hard though, right? When bae gets that glint in their eye, and all you wanna do is…”

“Jeremy. No.”

He laughed as Nicole shoulder-bumped him into cutting off the rest of his sentence. “Well, all I’ll say is I’ve been banned from Dwayne Johnson impressions for a while.”

Nicole knew she was pulling her ‘what the hell, Jeremy’ face as he rushed to explain.

“Oh, it’s just, whenever I’m in a pickle I like to ask ‘what would The Rock do?’ and I kinda threw a guava into a ‘Rock Bottom’ and not only does my kitchen smell like a really nice smoothy right now, but I popped a stitch, so… Here I am. Getting it checked out.”

“You did a wrestling move on a guava?”

“It’s not as kinky as it sounds…”

“Jeremy. In no universe is wrestling a uava kinky.”

“Which you would know because?”

“No comment, Jeremy.” Her smirk had Jeremy chuckling as he rushed to explain further.

“We were playing spin the guava, and…”

“Okay, I think I retract my previous statement...”

“...the stupid thing wouldn’t choose between us! So, I… smashed it. Then we tried it on toast. It was gross, as you’d expect. Is that weird? It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Weird that you ate guava on toast or weird that you spin exotic fruit to make decisions?

“Yes.” Jeremy replied so seriously Nicole felt her mirth sober immediately.

“It’s not weird, Jeremy. Waverly and I spun a houseplant called Bobo to decide what Showstopper to bake a few weeks ago, so…”

“Weirdo’s for life?” Jeremy asked hopefully. Nicole offered her fist to playfully fistbump him in solidarity.

“Weirdo’s for life, Jeremy. Wait. What were you trying to decide?”

“Oh, weeeell…”

“Jeremy. How is it possible for you to be _blushing_ this hard.” Nicole did a quick mental odds calculation as to the likelihood that Jeremy was about to overshare a detail of his sex life she would never be able to unhear or stop trying to imagine the mecahnics of how such a thing would even work. She did not like the odds her brain returned. “On second thought, don’t answer that question..”

“We had to decide…”

“La la la la la…” Nicole laughed with her friend while covering her ears.

“...where to live.”

“Wait. Really? You’re moving in together? Already?” Nicole was surprised, but pleasantly so. The look of sheer adoration that came over Jeremy’s face whenever he talked about Robin stoked the small flames of hope in her chest, warming her heart.

“Yeah, I know. It seems fast but… when you know, you know, right?”

“Yeah, I might know a little bit about that.” Nicole smiled at her friend, then pulled him into a congratulatory side hug. “Congratulations dude. So, did you decide?”

“Yeah. The answer turned out to be secret option three. We’re gonna find a new place. Together. Robin wants to buy but it’s probably a bit too soon for that, even for us.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“Interesting? How? Property is so damn expensive, and confusing and ugh!”

“Weeelll, I might know of an apartment coming up for sale in, say, two weeks?”

“Really? Where?”

“Davie Village.”

“What!? How much? What agent should I call? Can I go visit?”

“Yeah, Jeremy. Why don’t you come round to my place with Robin after filming next week. You can tell me if you like the place.”

“ _You’re_ selling?”

“Yeah. After Bake Off. I’m ready for the next chapter of my life and… it’s not in the city.”

“Oh, do I detect a big move to the sticks in your future?”

“Something like that, Jeremy.”

“Waverly must be so excited!”

“Oh, ah. I haven’t said anything about it yet. So… shhhh, and all that.”

“Really? Is that a good idea?”

“Yeah.” Nicole knew she sounded unconvinced. “I’m taking Waverly out on a surprise date on Sunday after filming. I’m going to talk to her about it then.”

“Hmmm. Real talk?”

Nicole swallowed. Jeremy was one of the best things about her Bake Off experience so far. His energy and enthusiasm for life was contagious. He was an open book of honesty and insight which meant that Nicole naturally took a lot of stock in what he had to say. Which meant, when he felt like he had to offer something with the title ‘real talk’, she knew that she was about to experience a moment of cognitive dissonance she would be thinking about for days. She was going to hate whatever he said next, because it would be true no matter how much she wanted it not to be so.

“Make sure you do talk to her, because, I’ve noticed this about you. About you both. You bottle stuff up. Like, you’re convinced that if you stuff it away in a box and fix the lid on it it’ll all go away, but it doesn’t.” 

Jeremy paused, giving her space to shut him down but she remained silent, giving a small head nod for him to continue.

“I noticed Waverly was really worried about you last week, during the panic attack.”

“You’re the third person to describe it as that. That’s not…”

“I really think it was Nicole, and Waverly didn’t know what was going on and she was scared. I could see the wheels turning in her head and the gears kept chunking like they couldn’t connect. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that meant she couldn’t think of a single reason why you were in such distress.”

“I’ve talked to her since then…”

“But it was a little late, wasn’t it?”

“What are you saying to me Jeremy?”

“I’m not sure if I’m honest. I’m just worried about my friends. I’ve told you before. I can kinda tell when they’re in pain and I feel like you could do with... ahhh… here.” Nicole frowned as Jeremy thrust a battered card at her as his name was called for his appointment. “I’ve been seeing her for a while now. She’s the best, okay? Think about it. See you on Friday! I gotta go!” 

Nicole had no chance to respond with anything other than a hasty ‘Bye, Jeremy’ directed at his back.

Looking at the card, she sighed.

 **‘** **_Don’t Get Off The Bus_ ** **’  
** Licenced Therapists  
 _Dr Kiersten Lesko  
_ Specialist in childhood trauma, grief, and intimacy counselling.  
Free Chestnut latte or Thistle tea blend with every appointment.

_Great. Awesome. Thanks Jeremy._

Nicole stood, unable to put off heading home to Waverly and the undoubtedly gorgeous smells emanating from her practice bakes in Nicole’s oven. There would be questions. So many questions. Like ‘ _What did Doctor Reggie say?’_ and _‘oh my god, what’s an EMG?’_ Which Waverly would adorably begin researching immediately, just like Nicole knew she had started looking up ‘how to help someone through a panic attack’ when she thought Nicole couldn’t see her phone screen.

She scrunched the small card in her weak fist a few times, trying out the vanilla version of the grip exercises. 

She passed a rubbish bin on her way out the automatic doors of the clinic, but instead of letting it drop, Nicole shoved the crumpled card out of sight into the dark depths of her jeans pocket. 

Out of sight and out of mind, but with her. 

If she needed it.  
  


<(￣ ﹌ ￣)>  
  


 **Nicole’s apartment, Vancouver  
** **FRIDAY**

“I brought your mail, Lesbians…” Wynonna shouted from the other side of the closed door.

“She’s early…” Nicole mumbled in disappointment.

“She’s not. We just lost track of time again.”

“Urgh. I hate it when you're right”

“Really? You must hate a lot of the time..”

“I do hate Wynonna a really, really lot.” Nicole breathed as she stole yet another kiss from Waverly, letting her hand snake its way up under her loose fitting blouse as she went.

“No you don’t!” Wynonna shouted. “Stop flapping your flaps and open your door, ya’ giant ginger dick!”

Nicole raised her voice despite it seeming like Wynonna was having no trouble at all hearing her. “But my mouth is busy doing _other_ things right now Wynonna.” She grinned down at Waverly lying beneath her on the couch, who merely rolled her eyes as Nicole whispered, pecking her forehead, nose and finally her lips once again. “Many. Other. Things.” 

“Urgh, Fucking lesbians…” Wynonna muttered, still trapped on the other side of the door. 

“No. Lesbians, fucking, and we’re really, really good at it.”

Waverly’s eye roll only intensified. “Are you going to keep this up all afternoon?”

“Yup.” Nicole replied but she leaned back, offering her girlfriend a hand to get up off the couch. Without thinking, she offered her weak arm and had to school her features as Waverly took it, levering her weight off it to rise to a stand. 

Despite Wavely’s many questions when she had returned from her appointment earlier in the week, Nicole had managed to deflect most of them and the worry had dropped away from Waverly’s eyes. Nicole had largely forgotten about the EMG appointment thanks to a wonderfully distracting week taking Waverly to two of her Mom’s favourite places in the city.

On Wednesday, they’d spent the whole day at Whytecliff park, walking the trails and absorbing the atmosphere. Just the smell of the place took Nicole back to happy weekends spent walking with her Mom. On Thursday night, after an entire day's worth of baking practice, Nicole had taken her to the Robson ice rink, embarrassing herself with a complete lack of skill that Waverly had only found adorable and sexy all at once.

Seeing the lack of dark clouds in her eyes while she shared these special places with her love had been worth the slight obfuscation and definitely worth every hidden pinch of pain and dull, aching sleepless hour that followed her over-exertion. 

“Haughtpants, I own a she-wee and I am _not_ above marking my pregnant-ass territory all over your door if you don’t open up right the fuck now.”

“All right, keep your fetus in!” 

The door opened and a blur of leather tassels invaded her personal space. A plain white envelope was thrust in the pair's general direction which a stunned Waverly managed to catch with a fumble. A mumbling shout of ‘Fucking Lesbians…” accompanied the delivery.

“I told you, Lesbians, fucking!” Nicole shouted after her friends back.

“Well, this definitely isn’t for me…” Waverly sighed as she handed the large envelope to Nicole. It was heavy, with a large ‘Vancouver City Police Department’ label emblazoned across the top and Wynonna had scrawled a hastily drawn pineapple all over the back because of course she had.

Nicole’s breath hitched in her throat. She could feel her face getting hot, flushed with excitement. These were undoubtedly her transfer papers. She could rip it open right now and find out for sure if the new future she imagined for herself, for herself and Waverly, had been approved.

“Fuck, Haught! Are you too good for toilet paper or something!” Wynonna’s loud shout from down the small hallway echoed around the room, but Nicole barely heard her, her attention well and truly fixed to the envelope.

“Nicole? What is it?” Waverly questioned with a frown. It was enough to break the spell the envelope had cast. Nicole allowed a wide grin to spread over her face before leaning in to take Waverly’s mouth with her own. 

“Hmmmm, work stuff…” 

Her weak hand supported Waverly’s head as the kiss naturally deepened, while her good hand reached out slowly, taking the envelope from Waverly’s hands, tossing it casually to the floor.

“I’ll tell you later.” 

“Okay…” Waverly breathed, loosing herself in the kiss as Wynonna continued to rage in the background about fucking lesbians and an overall lack of consideration for the toilet paper needs of pregnant guests.

“... but you better. ‘Cos I love it when you smile at me like that Nic. I wanna know why.”

Later, Nicole would spend a lot of time thinking about how it was always the small things, small things like tossing away an envelope instead of opening it right then and there, that turn out to matter the most.   
  


(ノ_<。) ┌iii┐  
  


 **INT.  
** Bake Off tent.

 **MARY  
** Thank you Waverly.

The judges walk away, happy to have completed the final Signature challenge judgement, but the cameras linger as a disappointed Waverly tries one of her lavender infused choux buns. Nicole and Sue arrive on the other side of her workstation and with the merest hint of Waverly’s assent, they each enthusiastically try one as well.

 **SUE  
** This is a travesty! Waverly, will you accept a Perkins handshake because holy moley I love this! So subtle, so… creamy! 

As Nicole takes a bite, some of the crème pâtissière oozes out. The camera zooms back slightly so Waverly’s subtle biting of her top lip is in the same frame as Nicole’s tongue licking the corner of her mouth. 

**NICOLE  
** Waverly, this is easily the third best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.

 **WAVERLY  
** (Blushes)

 **SUE  
** (Smirks directly to camera)

 **CUT.  
** To commercial break.

  
(o_O) ! ┌iii┐  
  


 **Bake Off Tent, Gardner Estate  
** **SATURDAY**

“This is going to be a fiddly, complex nightmare that they’re going to present as the simplest thing in the world, isn’t it?”

Nicole nodded her head in resigned agreement with Waverly’s assessment as the remaining bakers trudged into the tent to begin filming the technical sequence for Pâtisserie week.

“I bet there’ll be meringues” Nicole replied with unrestrained tiredness. “Wynonna’s gonna lose her mind!” Waverly’s face crinkled in sudden mirth, her hand darting to her face as if she could hide her reaction. 

Nicole loved seeing that smile. Especially when it was because of something she’d done. She felt her heart thwump in anticipation of the date she had planned for Sunday night, where she would tell waverly all about her transfer and how she was hoping to be the cause of many more cheeky smiles, long after the bubble of the Bake Off tent burst. Everything was falling into place. The beat of her heart pumped a renewed energy through her veins.

“Oh, I hope so.” Waverly replied behind her hand, her eyes darting behind her to check Wynonna hadn’t overheard. “I need something to entertain me while this disaster unfolds.”

Feeling unnecessarily cheeky, Nicole leaned down and whispered the most filthy thing she could think of in the spur of the moment, causing Waverly to be blushing profusely as she walked into the tent directly on camera, and ensuring they both had something better than baking to think about than Sue’s introduction. 

“Our lovely judges have really ramped up the complexity this week and nothing less than perfection is going to earn their stamp of approval. So no pressure then everyone. Especially you, Wynonna”

Wynonna raised a stashed bottle of Whiskey from under her workstation, almost desperate to appear unflustered by her nerves.

“I’ll be fine guys! I already smuggled this in. Meet you round the back in five Mary!”

Mary laughed along with the other bakers while Paul looked on, appearing grumpy and unamused with his lot in life. Wynonna caught his eye and winked suggestively.

“Maybe I can get Mr Grumpy Pants to join me this time?” She cocked a finger gun aim, aimed and shot an invisible snark bullet right at his heart. Paul turned on his heel and away with a gruff sigh while Mary followed, chuckling lightly to herself.

“Well, while Mary performs an emergency tracheotomy on Paul…” Mel took up the reins of the introduction. “...you lot can get cracking with the most fiddly and difficult technical I think the judges have ever asked of our bakers.”

“Yes, this week the judges would like you to make a flotilla of Boat Tarts.” Sue’s face exuded delight as the bakers all frowned in confusion in unison at her. “These Fillipino delights have a delicious pastry base, are filled with gooey caramel and topped with sweet meringue sails...”

Wynonna’s anguished groan filled the tent at the mere mention of the dreaded ‘M’ word and her head slowly sank forward until it thwacked audibly onto her workstation.

“...all baked in tiny, delicate, boat shaped tins. You have just one and a half hours to present twenty identical and perfectly baked tarts. So, on your marks. Get set…”

“BAKE”

With Sue’s final, shouted order, the tent suddenly became a hive of activity. Gingham sheets were whipped away from ingredients and accessories and everyone frantically opened their workstation drawers to find the set of instructions. Everywhere except Wynonna’s station. Her hair fanned out dramatically around her as her hand blindly retrieved the single-sided A4 sheet of paper in the drawer next to her.

Nicole grinned at Wynonna’s over-dramatised distress, catching Waverly’s eye before looking at her own sheet. The mirth quickly fell away as she read.

  1. Make pastry. Bake in tins provided.
  2. Make caramel. Fill tart.
  3. Make meringue sails. Place on top
  4. Serve.



Even for Bake Off, the instructions, or lack thereof, were ridiculous. What kind of pastry? What kind of caramel? Bake for how long? At what temperature?

She cast her eyes around the tent one more time as each and every baker looked up and at each other at once. Except Wynonna. She read hers from under the curtain of her hair and all that was heard was a quiet voice, almost whispering until the final word was screamed into her boots.

“I fucking hate MERINGUE!”

  
٩(`皿´҂)ง  
  


**SATURDAY AFTERNOON**

Nicole was running out of places to look.

She’d tried each of the bedrooms, the games room, the li-BAR-y and the Kitchen in Crofte Castle but her quarry wasn’t hiding out in any of them. She’d even ducked into Mecedes’ private gym despite knowing she and Waverly had the only other key. Next she’d jogged the looping track out to the boat shed and back, via the Italian gardens and then down the steep steps to the Bake Off tent, but it was useless.

Wynonna was nowhere to be found.

After the disaster of Wynonna’s ‘very poorly constructed’ boat tarts, and a post judgement interview segment that had to be called off due to the number of expletives she used, Wynonna had pulled a vanishing lady trick so effective that neither she, nor Waverly had been able to track her down.

Waverly was worried about her, which meant that Nicole was worried too. Nicole would never forget the cold, hard stare Paul had leveled at the gingham table when he and Mary had entered the room, so she was glad to be ending the day, even if she was spending it on a wild Wynonna chase around the property.

 _**Bvbvbvb**  
_ _**Bvbvbvb**_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
7.15pm:  
 _Any luck?_

Nicole Cutie 🥧  
7.15pm:  
 _No, nothing. She’ll be ok? Right?  
_ _She just needs some space?_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
7.16pm:  
 _Yeah, I know.  
_ _It’s been a while since she’s taken off like that though.  
_ _I’m worried._

Nicole Cutie 🥧  
7.16pm:  
 _We’ll keep looking Waves.  
_ _She’ll be fine, I promise.  
_ _Hey, my battery’s getting low so I’m gonna head in to charge it.  
_ _Then I’ll loop round the grounds again?  
_ _Meet you out front later?_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
7.18pm:  
 _Yeah, sounds good.  
_ _If we haven’t found her by nightfall...  
_ _I may need to murder her myself!_

Nicole Cutie 🥧  
7.18pm:  
 _Whoa there murderino!  
_ _I better find her before I need to arrest you!_

Waverly Uhhhhhhhrp☀️ 🌈  
7.19pm:  
👀 Promise?⛓

Nicole Cutie 🥧 _  
_7.19pm:  
 _WAVERLY.  
_ _EARP!  
_ _(Promise_ 😉 😘 _)_

It took no time at all to head up to her room, plug in the phone, re-check the area before heading out the big main entrance, through the porte-cochère to the courtyard beyond.

“If I was Wynonna, where would I go?” Nicole mused to herself, under her breath. “Or rather, what would I _do_?” 

Casting her eyes across the estate, Nicole suddenly spotted a furtive flash of hair from behind the wheel arch of a ridiculous vintage sports car. All sleek angles, fat tyres and sitting low to the ground, it was parked ostentatiously right outside Crofte Castle, at an angle that suggested it had not exactly been ‘parked’ but rather ‘abandoned’ by an arrogant and inattentive driver. 

Which sounded about right considering it was Paul Hollywood’s car.

“Wynonna! What the _hell_ are you doing?”

“Shit! The Fuzz!”

“Har, Har.”

“Well, you have to admit it, Haught. Your ass is fuzzy. Like a cute little peach emoji cake.” Wynonna grinned while she waggled her eyebrows at her interrupting friend.

“How do you…”

“I’ve seen it.”

“What? When!? Why!?”

Wynonna looked at her like a librarian looking over her thick-rimmed glasses, eyes filled with disbelieving disapproval.

“Do we need to revisit the ‘Haught will not roam the Homestead buck-ass naked’ conversation?”

When no rejoinder fell from Nicole’s lips, Wynonna continued. “Anyway, I’ve got shit to do Haught so unless you know how to break into this car, kindly faff-off and let me get on with my poor life choices.”

“Wynonna…” Nicole’s voice dripped with condescension. She knew it but she couldn’t keep the tone from leaking through at Wynonna’s over-excitement.

“Are you seriously telling me that not only do you intend to _break the law_ but you want me to _help you_ do it!” 

“Is it breaking the law though? I’m not _stealing_ it. I’m just borrowing it. Without permission.”

“That’s the literal definition of stealing Wynonna!”

“He’ll get it back.”

“When?”

“When he apologises for being a grade-A dick-flour to Waverly.”

“Wynonna, he’s a judge in this competition. He’s entitled to pass judgement on our work. Even Waverly’s”

“Nicole, you’re a reasonably smart-ish girl. I don’t know why you aren’t getting this. _No one_ is entitled to be a dick to Waverly. Not you, not Champ and certainly not Paul Fucking Hollywood, so if you will excuse me, I have a _very_ expensive classic car to _temporarily purloin_ in order to teach a silver-rimmed asshole a goddamn lesson about messing with Earps!”

Nicole smirked and folded her arms.

“Go on then. Get in.” She mocked from the sidelines. A casual glance across the sleek lines of the classic car revealed a distinct lack of door handles. Nicole couldn’t help the smile broadening across her face as Wynonna began examining the side panels, feeling along the long angular door frame until she found what she was after.

“AH-HA!” Wynonna crowed with success, tugging hard on the door, but it refused to budge, making Wynonna’s feet scrabble on the ground as she nearly fell. 

Nicole burst into laughter at the sight.

“SHHHHHHH! Jesus, Haught-stuff. I’m trying to work here.”

“Come on Wynonna, give it up. Even if you somehow get in, which you won’t, you don’t have the keys. That car is going nowhere.”

Wynonna just smirked at her. Trying the handle again, she easily swung the door up and open. “It’s a gull wing car, duh. I should’ve guessed. All these European imports have got dumb shit like this. Now all I have to do is hotwire it.”

“This isn’t a movie, Wynonna, you can’t just…” Nicole let the rest of the sentence fall away. Wynonna had already backed her pregnant heiny into the narrow confines of the car. Lying backwards across the bucket seats, she had already pulled a mess of wiring out from under the dash.

“What is she doing?” A quiet voice suddenly appeared behind Nicole, causing her to jump.

“Jesus, Mercedes!” She hissed at the newest Bake Off alum she would be happy to call her friend.

“What? Did you want me to loudly interrupt this Grand theft auto?”

“That’s not… she’s not _really_ gonna… I mean…”

“Nicole. That is Paul Hollywood’s prized 1987 Lamborghini Countash. Which yes, sounds like a well manicured moustache on a lady garden, and to be fair, the car does have scissor doors but… wait. What were we talking about again?”

Before Nicole could answer, the sports car suddenly roared to life.

“Ha-ha, suckers! See ya later Stop Sign!” Wynonna had leaned back upright in the driver’s seat and slammed down the door before the last syllable had left her mouth. Predictably, she revved the engine and managed to burn a perfect doughnut into the tarmac before taking off down a back road on the estate.

“Okay. That shouldn’t have been so hot, right?” Mercedes dropped the first comment into the cloud of burning rubber the pair of women were staring into.

“What? That wasn’t…”

“I won’t tell if you don’t 10-7”

“Stop calling me that. Seriously.”

“Not gonna happen…”

“Where’s my car? Where the _fook_ is my car?” Like magic, Paul Hollywood appeared from the garden path that led to the old gardeners cottage that housed the judges and presenters during filming.

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders in indifference at the same time that Nicole pointled uselessly in the direction of the tyre tracks.

Paul huffed in anger pulling out his phone to mash a text out with his giant bread making thumbs. He mumbled “Too far this time Sue. Too far...” before storming back off in the direction he came.

“Is he gone?” Sue Perkins’ voice piped up from behind a bush and this time, Nicole and Mercedes jumped in unison. “You know, for a police officer and a lawyer you’re both very easily startled.” Sue accused, brushing detritus from her clothes.

“So I’ve been told…” Nicole managed in answer, all the while wondering what else the Universe planned for her this evening.

“What are we all doing out here?” Waverly appeared as if from nowhere, sliding out from behind a pillar of the porte-cochère and completing a hat trick of startled responses from Sue, Nicole and Mercedes. The latter, holding out her hands as if they had the power to stop the world from turning.

“Okay. Everyone is going to start wearing bells. I swear my pelvic floor is having an angina attack.” 

“You know, I don’t think that’s anatomically possible?”

“JEREMY! JESUS! FUCK!”

The smaller man stumbled back slightly in shock, fumbling with the box he was carrying. He tried to regain his composure in the face of four women shouting variations of his name coupled with expletives but the box very nearly tipped out of his hands.

“Argh! What?”

Just as the last of the tyre smoke wafted higher into the sky, the sound of a revving engine on the lower drive diverted everyone’s attention. Wynonna had obviously worked out how to wind down the window and was playing ACDC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ at top volume. All the assembled group could see was a blur of silver, a flagrance of hair whipping in the wind and a leather tassled arm piercing the air with a devil horn hand gesture.

“Oh. So we found Wynonna then.” Waverly spoke simply, like she hadn’t just witnessed her pregnant sister roar by in a stolen hundred thousand dollar sports car.

“Better her than me this time!” Sue’s words immediately drew everyone’s attention.

“You’ve taken his car before?”

“Oh, loads of times! That was why I was here, but when I saw Wynonna sniffing around it I thought I’d wait and see what happened. I’m so glad I did. That was, quite frankly, the dog’s bollocks.”

“The _what_?” Nicole asked at the same time as Jeremy asked “When?” and Mercedes enquired “How many times?” 

“Oh, at least once every week.”

“Every week!”

“Yeah. It’s kinda my thing. I move his car to random spots around the estate. Last week, he nearly had me arrested after Mel and I drove his DB9 into a ditch.” Nicole, Waverly, Mercedes and Jeremy let their mouths drop open in shock.

“But… why?”

“Did you see his face?!” Sue pointed back towards the path he'd disappeared down. “Worth it.” She sing-songed in reply. “I’ll go head him off calling the cops too early. Let Wynonna have a little fun at grumpy arse's expense, please? For me and Mel?”

“I had no idea it was you!” Mercedes grinned at Sue. “You can count on us. Carry on!” She offered Sue a mock salute as she left in search of Mr Grumpy-arse himself.

“Wait” Jeremy yelled at her retreating form. “Take a bribe!” He opened up the box he had fumbled, revealing a jumbled mix of the most perfect looking Brownies known to the universe. “Your famous brownies!? Hell yes!” Sue exclaimed, reaching in to grab a specimen. She turned as if to leave but was quickly back again. “One for Mel too, right? And Mary, obviously… and my uncle… and his dog…” Sue eventually left with a tower of roughly ten brownies stacked and melting in the cradle of her arm. 

“Well… that was…” Nicole started into the ensuing silence, but found she couldn’t work out how to finish the sentence.

“Yeah…” Waverly helpfully supplied.

“Hey, while we wait for Wynonna, do you wanna blind taste test these bad boys?” Jeremy shook the now decidedly lighter box with enthusiasm. “There’s salted caramel with hints of maple, black forest gateau and also, vanilla dipped donut dough.”

“Fuck yes Jeremy! What are we waiting for!” Mercedes yelled. “To the kitchen, assholes!”  
  


(っ˘ڡ˘ς)  
  


It took Mercedes less than five minutes to set up three blind-brownie-tasting stations on the large marble countertop centered in the Crofte Castle industrial kitchen. It was big enough for her, Waverly and Nicole to sit on stools side-by-side as Jeremy handled the blindfold between each of his three friends.

“Doughnut. This one tastes like poor choices at 3am and the consequent binge eating of day old Tim Bits'' Mercedes confidently declared before taking the tequila shot she had insisted on between each tasting as a palate cleanser. “That’s a compliment by the way.” She reassured after the blindfold was removed and placed on Waverly, the last of the trio to take her turn trying out Jeremy’s experimental brownies.

“This is phe-nom-nom-inal!” Waverly declared on her first bite.

Nicole could only nod her head in agreement. Having gone first, she felt like she’d eaten half her body weight in chocolate but due to the warming influence of the alcohol, she didn’t much care. After such a stressful day in the tent, she found herself more relaxed and at peace than she had all weekend.

However, the main reason she had enjoyed the entire evening was the way it had served to lighten Waverly as well. Her shoulders seemed less burdened despite not knowing the exact whereabouts of Wynonna. The cloud that had reappeared slowly throughout filming seemed to have faded a little, from a deepening purple to a light, featureless grey. 

So they drank, and ate and laughed without a care for tomorrow’s Signature Challenge filming. All that mattered was the here and now, with Waverly’s smiling face catching her eye every so often with a twinkle of relaxed mirth. Her unguarded guffaws of laughter lifted Nicole’s soul like no other sound in the world.

The more she looked at Waverly, the more she smiled and the clearer her vision seemed to be. She imagined Waverly’s fluffy cloud rising and expanding until it lifted from her eyes and instead became a soft, plump halo above her head. A rainbow burst from one side and a unicorn with the body of a mouse in a leotard jumped over it like it was in a hurdles relay race, and did a squeaky voice just demand that she take a baton wrapped in bacon?

What.

Was.

Happening?

Nicole was vaguely aware of Waverly talking, asking Jeremy about the balance of ingredients in the donut flavoured recipe but the mouse was very angry at losing a medal in the Rainbow Olympics and was phoning the mouse mafia to put a hit out on Nicole. Which somehow felt like the most believable part of what was happening to her right now.

She shook her head vigorously, like a dog drying itself after a spontaneous dip in a river. The mouse disappeared but now everyone was looking at her.

_Oh, my god. Did I just make a barking noise?_

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” Waverly asked, but Nicole didn’t see her face move. She could just hear her thoughts inside her head all of a sudden. Which was weird, and not possible. Unless?

“Jerrrrewy… Tha’ thing one…” Nicole had forgotten the word for ‘donuts’. “...roun’. Had a fun’ after… glow.”

_Aftertaste! You mean ‘funny aftertaste’, you idiot!_

“Wait… did that one have a heart shape dusted in icing sugar on it, or was it a leaf?” 

“A... leaf? Yeah, nah. It wuz a…” Nicole tried to indicate by shaping her hands. “Hadda diamon’ on it…” 

“Mine too” slurred Mercedes, who was slowly sliding out of her seat, a startled Waverly only just catching her before she made it all the way to the floor. “Diamond’s are a girl's best... ho…” she slurred again, but somehow with great enthusiasm.

“Well, mine didn’t. Jeremy, what is happening?” Waverly asked him sharply.

“Oh no. Oh nonononononono!” 

“Jeremy!” Waverly seemed to have lost her patience. “Did you serve them edibles!” Waverly squeaked out as she joined the dots.

“No! I mean, probably? Yes? I think I did, yeah? I made a small batch for Robin and he must’ve unknowingly packed them all together before we left on Friday! I’m so sorry!”

“Wha?” Nicole was flabbergasted. “I can’ ge’ high! Imma cop!”

“Pfffft.” Mercedes replied. “An’ imma lawyer. I’ll get you off. You jus’ hafta ask 10-7” Mercedes blinked instead of winking at Nicole. “But right now I’mma jus’ gonna lie down here a minute, kay?” Mercedes swept the remaining brownies off the counter with a loud giggle before stretching out and then face planting into it. To Nicole it looked like she was performing a miracle, swimming on the surface of an impenetrable marble sea.

“Jeremy… How many were there?” Waverly asked.

“Uh, six? Maybe eight?

“How many did these doofuses eat?”

Nicole didn’t know how to say ‘two’ so she just said the first word that came to her.

“Lawnmower?”

“Jesus fudging fudgenuggets Jeremy! How many do you think ended up with Sue? Fuck! What if she gave them to Mary!”

The horrified look on Jeremy’s face was priceless. It shrank and twisted until Jeremy looked like Evard Munch’s ‘Scream’. Which just made Nicole laugh uncontrollably. She heard Waverly using her ‘Very Annoyed’ voice.

“Stay here Jeremy. Watch these two while I try and stop Bakedaggeddon with my bare hands!”

Waverly was gone for a really long time. 

Like, a really long time.

So long in fact, that by the time she returned many, many things had changed whilst also staying more or less the same.

Jeremy was gone, replaced by a cackling Wynonna, furiously taking photos.

Mercedes was still face down on the table but she was naked.

Nicole had propped herself haphazardly on a barstool, but she was hunched over Mercedes ass, with a look of deep concentration on her face.

“Nicole!”

“Argh! What?”

“Are you _tattooing_ a flaming phoenix up Mercedes ass?”

“Uhhhhhhh, no. I’m… foo’ colorin’ her ass. Wiv ma spray-gun.” She waved it in the air at her girlfriend before leaning back in, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she returned to concentrating on her craft.

“Ah always wann’d a taddoo…” Mercedes slurred into her folded arms. “Buh I can’andle da pain. Thissis good. Bedder.”

“You bet your tight white ass it’s better Mercedes! Look at this Waverly! Haught’s a genius!” Wynonna kept snapping pictures from different angles. “The lighting in here is amazing!”

“When did you get back, Annie Leibovitz?” Waverly asked while leaning over to inspect Nicole’s handiwork. Which Nicole in no way found distracting and did not cause her to accidentally spray orange food colouring right up Mercedes’ spine and across her hair.

“Oh, I hitched back to the castle…” Wynonna replied as she sat back, typing furiously on her phone as she spoke. 

“Oh my god! Did you crash it! Are you okay?!” Waverly asked.

“What do you take me for Waves? I merely drove it onto the ferry and left it there.” Wynonna replied matter-of-factly.

Mercedes snort of laughter exploded from her face and cast ripples through her body all the way south to her ass cheeks. They wobbled as the laughter continued, making the wings of Nicole’s phoenix look like they were flapping.

“Yurrr ass is takin’ off!” Nicole shouted, which only made Mercedes laugh harder and Wynonna reopen her camera app.

“Oh, my god. Children, where did your designated adult go?”

“Who? Jeremy? I tagged him out. He was worried about Robin. What about you? Was Mary high? Please tell me Mary got high!”

“Inconclusive. I managed to confiscate the remaining samples and talked to Sue. As far as she knew there were no diamond shapes in her lot but…Mary left to wander around the garden about an hour ago so she was going out to look for her. What? Wynonna, it’s not funny! It’s NOT! Look at them!”

But Wynonna was beyond help, as were both Mercedes and Nicole. The longer the giggling continued, the more intense it got until Wynonna was helpless on the floor and Nicole had virtually climbed on top of the counter to lie down next to Mercedes.

“Wynonna! You’re not helping!”

“10-24, Mercedes!” Nicole managed to shout in between childish giggles. She slapped her ass, without thinking. “You’re all done!”

“Oh, she’s all something alright.” Waverly’s tone had shifted back into angry mouse mode. “Nicole. Bed. Now.” 

“Ooooh, baby girl is mad…” Wynonna called from her position on the floor.

“Yes! Yes, I am mad! My sister just stole a car, my friend accidentally poisoned my girlfriend who just spray painted the fine _naked_ ass of our new friend and we all have to be up in…” Waverly checked her watch, making even that small movement look like it was done in anger. “...six hours, to bake stupid fiddly pasty desserts on camera, and last time I looked, it’s only Nicole who’s going to have to do it…”

This time it was Nicole who interrupted with a snort. “Huh. Do it…” 

“...coming down off of a high…”

Wynonna was the next giggle domino to fall “Coming!”

“...bigger than the Sun Tower!”

“Nofffair! Sun Tower ain’t funny!” Mercedes pouted while the others giggled uncontrollably.

“Waverly. Chill. We’ll look after Haught’s High Horse.”

“No, you won’t Wynonna. I’ll look after my girlfriend.” She helped Nicole down off the countertop and began steering her towards the door. “You make sure Mercedes is _safe_ Wynonna.” Nicole could see the sisters staring at each other, a silence falling in the room as their eyes battled. Wynonna sighed, dropping her eyes in defeat.

“Yeah, alright Waves. I got this. Come on Mer. Let’s get you upstairs.”

“You gonna 10-66 me Wy-no-no?” Mercedes asked.

“I’m not sure if I really want to know if that’s kinky or not.”

Nicole didn’t see what happened next. Waverly was already dragging her through the kitchen door. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on their bed as her girlfriend - beautiful, kind, amazing Waverly - busied herself around the room. God, but she loved this woman. If only she could tell her.

Her shoes came off, then her clothes. Nicole tried to move her arms, to stop the busy bee and pull Waverly into her, to kiss her girlfriend like there would be no tomorrow, but nothing seemed to work anymore. She told her arm to move and instead she slowly lay back on the bed. She asked her hand to caress Waverly’s face but instead it hung in the air practicing a royal wave to the Queen.

“Nicole, you’re not helping.” A note of exasperation had entered Waverly’s voice. Nicole felt a wave of devastation wash over her. She’d disappointed her girlfriend. Her Waverly.

“Imma sorry Waves…” Traitorously, her face leaked a tear. She didn’t want to cry but the sadness was too big. Waverly’s disappointment seemed amplified somehow and Nicole felt like she was never going to recover from it.

Waverly’s attitude seemed to melt away immediately on sight of the tear tracking it’s way down Nicole’s face. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay…” 

“You pomise?”

Waverly sighed, taking a seat next to her on the side of the bed. “Yes, baby. I promise. Come on. Roll over so we can get some rest.”

“Okey…commere.” Nicole rolled slightly, waiting for Waverly to throw off her own clothes and join her. She tucked herself under Waverly’s chin, letting her girlfriend soothe her with the movement of her fingers through her hair.

"Hey Waverrry? Isss dark." 

"Yeah, no shit Nicole." Waverly replied, but Nicole detected a hint of a smile in her tone.

"Would ya sing ta me? 

“You want me to sing you a lullaby in the dark?”

“Yeah. The one you sang me las’ night. It’s… soothin’. You sang it… when I firs’ saw ya, ya remember? Ya sang ta (showpony) man…” Nicole tugged on her hair, trying to indicate the immensity of the man’s bleached mowhawk hairdo. “When he wuz cryin’ abou’ his muffins being dry and dusty.”

"You remember that?" 

"I remember everrythang about _that_ day. ‘Bout you…” Nicole sighed in contentment. “Was beautiful..." 

Nicole heard the lyrical tune begin quietly in Waverly’s throat, as soothing now as it was the first time she heard it. She thought, maybe, she heard Waverly actually begin to sing words for the first time, but it was no use trying to hear them. The loving cadence of her voice drew her irrevocably on waves of comfort into a dreamless sleep.

  
౦０o ｡ (‾́。‾́ )y~~  
  


 **Baked Off tent  
** **SUNDAY**

Nicole’s eyes were dryer than crackers baking in the desert. Bloodshot, drooping and unable to focus. Everything was reduced to vague forms with the barest hint of colour, making everything look sun-blanched and desolate.

“Waverly…” Nicole whispered, because anything louder than a whisper made her brain try and escape her head like it was a prisoner at Alcatraz. 

“What does this say?” Although Nicole was holding a jar with a large label written in thick lettering on it, she couldn't read it. Every letter that danced across her vision actually danced. Especially ‘R’s” the legs kicked out and the looping top raised itself repeatedly like it was doffing a cap.

In other words, Nicole was still high and she was trying to bake an extravagant tower of Pâtisserie classics for her showstopper to save her place in the competition. 

“It says ‘salt’, Nicole!” Waverly whisper-hissed at her girlfriend. “Put it away! Paul is watching us!”

Waverly _was_ mad after all. 

Something had changed that morning after Nicole stumbled into the en suite to shower. Sure, she had directed a sure-fire hit musical about star-crossed shampoo bottles trapped in loveless marriages to hotel conditioner packets where she poorly sang all the major parts herself, but Nicole didn’t think that was the reason.

She had stumbled out of the bathroom asking what rhymed with ‘sponge’ only to find Waverly sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, sparking an unexpected silence to draw out between them. Nicole was sober enough to realise something was wrong but way too high to do anything productive with the information.

Waverly broke first, sighing with an air of disinterest. “I don’t know, Nicole. Lunge, maybe?” 

“Ooo! YES! Okay, so it would go like this then, ‘I couldn’t tell her all that I’d sponged.’” Nicole sang with the confidence of someone who didn’t know that they couldn’t sing to save their life. “‘Not until I’d luhhhhhhhnged!’” Nicole fell dramatically to her knees in front of Waverly, happy to see a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips as she imagined the huge instrumental swell and Idina Menzel belting out the last note at the Tony awards.

But it only lasted a fraction of a second.

Waverly’s gaze remained fixed into her lap until she tossed away Nicole’s phone, losing it in the sheets of the bed behind her. There was a flash when she looked up into Nicole’s eyes, like lightning crackling across her irises. Nicole had the sensation of being momentarily blinded and she could taste ozone in the back of her throat. The flash of angry light faded quickly, and Waverly’s cloud sunk back down around her eyes. A halo turned black, impenetrable and wound tight like a blindfold.

“Diké…” Nicole whispered with a quiet, possibly frightened, reverence.

“What?”

“You’re so beautiful. Like the statue of Diké outside.” Nicole reached out her hand but didn’t feel like she had the right to touch so let it fall away.

“You’re... Exquisite. Inspiring. Resilient. Worthy of awe...” Nicole wasn’t really sure if she was talking out loud but the track of Waverly’s eyes, bound as they were by the confines of her cloud, seemed to follow Nicole’s every word. When she responded, her voice was rough, like she’d been crying for days. 

“Nicole, you’re still high.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry...” Nicole looked down, feeling shame. Waverly looked so sad, so exhausted from having to look after her all night. If she were in her place, she’d be down-right angry too.

“Nicole, this isn’t your fault.”

“But you’re mad.”

“Yes. At Jeremy.”

“No, you are mad at me. I can tell. I’m so, so, sorry, times infinity…” Nicole sat back hard on her ass as Waverly stood suddenly.

“Yes, alright, I am mad but I can’t talk about this right now. Not while you’re high and adorable and looking at me like a kicked puppy. You have got a DAY ahead of you Nicole. You have to sober up and get in that tent. No matter what happens, we’re going to lose someone we love this week. We have to be ready.”

Except Nicole wasn’t ready.

It was impossible to be ready when she couldn’t even tell the difference between the salt and sugar containers. Nicole cast her eyes around the tent to the other bakers. Everyone had such intense looks of concentration on their faces. Everyone had done something poorly so far. Everyone’s position hung on their performance today.

Wynonna and Nedley had actually done reasonably well in the signature challenge, even though their Technical Boat Tarts sunk before arrival. Jeremy had done poorly all day yesterday but seemed to be smashing it so far in the Showstopper, while Waverly was steady if not spectacular. 

Which left Nicole. 

“Wait. Did you put _salt_ in your choux?” Waverly hissed, incredulous. Nicole could only nod as the full horror dawned on her.

“You’re going to have to make them again!”

“I can’t. There’s no time.”

“Oh, Nicole. No…” Waverly’s voice trailed away. The reality of her situation finally settled on her shoulders, and strangely, a sense of calm came with it. 

_So this is the end, eh? It’s not so bad._

Nicole knew she had achieved everything she wanted out of being on the show. Despite her mother’s voice being a continued void, absent these last two weeks, she felt like she had more than ticked off the task on the bucket list. She had made it to week eight of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off, earned a Hollywood handshake for her baking skills and found a love like she had never believed was possible in real life.

When the smile broke over her features as she had the thought, Waverly whacked her tea towel at her, almost exactly as she had done in week one.

“It’s not funny Nicole!”

“Yeah it is Waves. I’m so happy I met you.” Nicole knew that saying something like that to your girlfriend really should make them smile, but Waverly was frowning. Frowning and avoiding eye contact, and because ‘Universe’, Nicole noticed this in the middle of the Bake Off tent where there was no air to breathe out a question, no space to reach for her and ask ‘why’?

“Awww, so sweet! Sue appeared, using that magical superpower she seemed to have of appearing by magic.

“How’re you holding up, chuck? The Jerminator over there told me you _may_ have imbibed up to three of his very special experiments last night?”

“Oh, yeah. Sue I’m so sorry, Are _you_ okay?”

“Well, luckily I didn’t happen upon any of them. Mary however…” Sue pulled a face and pointed over her shoulder in Mary’s general direction. “...I’m pretty sure she had at least one and it turns out, Mary Berry doesn’t get high. She gets mad.”

Sure enough, Mary sat at the front of the tent, filming a small section with Paul where they predict the final outcome of the bakes. Her arms were crossed like a permanently moody teenager and she had a look of thunder roiling off her face that, although it was certainly scary, was no match for Waverly’s incongruous frown. 

“Not to worry. She has no idea why she woke up with a massive case of the grumps so I won’t tell if you don’t.” Sue tapped the side of her nose.

“Speaking of noses. What’s that…”

“Oh, ‘Chouxt’! The buns are burning!” Nicole all but pushed Sue out of the way, immediately drawing the secondary Bulshar camera crew to the unfolding disaster. 

No air.

No space.

Just the universe rolling out the denouement.

Before Nicole knew it, she was standing in front of the Gingham table, hand clasped behind her back as Mary and Paul leaned over her tower of uneven pâtisserie examples.

“Remind us what these are again?” Mary asked without looking up from the table. 

_Hoo boy. She really is mad today…_

“Um, the base is made of rose-water mille feuilles, the four columns are mini tarte aux myrtilles topped with traditional Religieuse with Mocha crème pâtissière and the parapets are salted caramel Chouquettes.”

“Hmmm.” Paul said noncommittally, pausing dramatically for effect. “You set yourself quite the challenge. This would have been difficult even without having an injured arm. Frankly, I’m amazed you produced anything at all.” Paul looked up then and his brow creased. “Are you alright, Nicole? You’re looking quite pale.” 

For once, Paul actually sounded genuine, like he hadn’t said it for the camera’s benefit. He’d even held his hand up to the Bulshar crew like he wanted to stop filming. “Do you need a break?”

“Oh, no. I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well, but I’m fine. We can keep going, honest. Thank you though Paul.” Nicole managed to stutter out an answer but it was hard while Mary Berry was staring at her like she could see directly into her soul.

 _Oh yeah. Mary Berry knows_ **_exactly_ ** _why I don’t feel well, and holy hell is she mad!_

“Okay. Reset?” Paul called out to the crew and then they were off again, with barely a breath between the end of the sentence and his next.

“Well, these are really difficult to make and you’ve absolutely nailed it. The mille-feuilles layers are perfect. Custard? Perfect. Caramel drizzle? Perfect. I can’t wait to try your Nuns Balls.”

“Wait! You shouldn’t eat that one!” 

Before Nicole could deliver the full confession she had been rehearsing for a full half hour Paul had thrown a whole Religieuse into his mouth.

Mary scoffed at Nicole’s outburst, condescension dripping from her mouth. “We have to eat them, Nicole. We’re here to judge you.”

Before the last word fell from her lips, Paul had turned rapidly around to spit into his hand. “Nicole’s right, Mary. Don’t eat that.” 

Paul Hollywood had spit her baking out on national TV. 

Mary Berry was giving her the most disapproving, almost disgusted look she’d ever seen.

_It’s only cake, it’s only cake, it’s only cake..._

“How very disappointing.” 

_How very disappointing indeed._

。。。ミヽ(。＞＜)ノ  
  


 **Italian gardens, Crofte Castle  
** **SUNDAY**

It was done.

The showstopper was over. 

The judging complete.

The disbelief, the disappointment, all dissipated into the coolness of the night now that the sun hung low on the horizon. It wasn’t the only reason Nicole felt the sting of night air on her skin. Instead of leaning into her open arms, Waverly had instead chosen to sit next to her on the stone bench of the loggia, wrapping her bent legs in her own arms instead of Nicole’s embrace. It felt a lot like rejection.

“I can’t believe this is ending…” Nicole sighed into the night.

“What happened to ‘It’s only cake’, Nicole.” 

“That was before…”

“Before what?”

“Before… this! Before today!”

Waverly sighed in that way she often would, that told Nicole she was pushing at the end of her patience, that they were talking about something else behind their actual conversation. It drove Nicole nuts that Waverly would so often just not say what she wanted to say.

“What are you really mad about?” Nicole was surprised by her own directness. She hadn’t intended to call out Waverly but she kind of felt like her defences were down. It had been a punishing day and she was only just feeling like she was getting full ownership of her brain back. All she wanted to do was get through this, get through Waverly telling her off, get through the no doubt sombre affair of their last dinner all together and get on with the date she had planned for her and Waverly down at the boat shed. So as much as she wanted to avoid confronting Waverly, it seemed like it was going to happen anyway.

_Thanks, universe. Why are you determined to be such a shit to me today? Is this what happens when Mom isn’t around to hiss and spit at you?_

Waverly scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘what am I really mad about’? Nicole, you and Wynonna…”

“No, before that. I want to know about this morning, because you told me you weren’t mad after bakedaggedon, and you told me you weren’t mad when you found me in the kitchen at 3am trying to satiate my munchies by eating more brownies, and you told me you weren’t mad that all the shampoo bottles died in end of my stage musical, but… you still seem _mad_. Please, tell me. What have I done, Waverly?”

“Fine” Waverly huffed, uncrossing her arms, her feet fell hard to the ground. She didn’t stand, but her feet made an audible noise as they stamped the ground. “Why are you selling the apartment?”

The conversational change startled Nicole. “Uhhhhhhh, how do you know...”

“Your real estate agent called while you were in the shower this morning. I know it’s not Shae making you sell. You told me about the terms of your divorce so, why? With all of your grief and sadness and especially with last week, I just don’t understand why you want to leave.”

_Fuck. Not now. I was going to tell you tonight…_

“Baby can we leave it? Please? I just want to take you out remember? We can talk then, yeah?”

“No, Nicole. We can talk now. What are you keeping from me?”

_Fuck_

“I… I got a new job.” Nicole found herself confessing before she could properly marshal her argument.

“Really? Why is this the first I’ve heard of it? I mean, yay! That’s so cool, but… you didn’t think to mention it?” Waverly sounded so lost in her confusion, It was eating Nicole up that she was the cause of it, but everytime she opened her mouth hoping the universe might force words out to help her explain, all that fell out was more hurt and confusion.

“Well, I didn’t want to say unless it all fell through, but after the stabbing and with all of the continued pain I’ve been having…”

“You’re still in pain?” Somehow it was still possible for Waverly’s face to fall even further.

_How am I making this even worse? Is this my fucking superpower? Hurting Waverly Earp?_

“Um, a little? The physio has helped but I might have a teeny tiny bit of nerve damage.”

“Nicole..” Waverly breathed her name out like an accusation, the tone foreign to Nicole’s ears and it hurt, deep down in her soul to hear it spoken with thick disappointment.

“You told me you were fine. You took me out, you ice skated, and baked and you lifted... things, and the whole time you were in pain? You _hid_ that from me?”

“Sometimes lying is a kindness. I didn’t want you to feel…”

“You don’t get to tell me what to feel! Or what to think, Nicole. I thought we had sorted this, but you’re still keeping things back from me.”

“So are you!” Nicole accused as a defence against the tidal wave of feelings swamping her with every resigned and disappointed word Waverly fired.

“Waverly stared at her, now openly hostile. “You already know what I’m holding back. You know my history. You told me you would wait to hear it from me when I was ready.”

Her voice trailed away as a look of realisation fluttered across her face, picking up unshed tears and depositing them in her eyes on their way. “Oh, that’s it isn’t it. All these pretty little words, Nicole. It was all lies...”

“No…”

“Lovely words to manipulate me, move me where _you_ want me to go. Get me to do things _you_ want me to do. God. You’re just like Wynonna. Two peas from different pods.”

“I think I resent that.” Nicole tried to lighten the mood. Like always, the timing was wrong.

Waverly looked up at her, eyes brimming with barely restrained anger.

“What’s the job Nicole? What job could possibly have you wanting to sell your mother’s apartment.”

Nicole’s mouth ran dry. So much so that she could barely force the words past her lips.

“Deputy Sheriff.”

“You’re going from Constable first class to _Deputy Sheriff?_ Waverly’s disbelieving voice felt like a stab in the chest. Then Nicole saw it. She saw how Waverly’s beautiful brain put all the pieces of the puzzle together to make a terrible whole.

“Where?” she asked in a whisper.

Nicole cleared her throat and averted her eyes as she rushed through her answer, whispered equally quietly in the too still, too quiet, room.

“Goat River County.”

Waverly laughed. Harshly, without mirth or enjoyment. The kind of laugh that was powerlessness in the face of the will of the universe. It stopped just as quickly as it started.

“That’s what the envelope was. Right? Why didn’t you tell me?” Waverly asked with genuine curiosity. “Why didn’t you ask…”

“Do I need your _permission!?”_

“No, of course not, but… we’re serious right? Us?” Waverly gestured between them. “This is something we should’ve at least talked about together? Am I always going to be the last person you consider?”

“No. You’re always the first. Always, Waverly, that’s why I brought the papers with me. It was going to be… a surprise.”

_That’s not a surprise, you a-hole._

_It’s an ambush._

Nicole felt sick. She had been wrong. So, so, wrong. She knew it with a universal understanding as immutable as time itself and there was nothing she could do as she watched the disappointment and anger flowing over Waverly’s face.

_She doesn’t want me in her hometown._

_Of course not._

_Why would she want me there?_

_It’s way too soon for this kind of thing_

_FUCK!_

“You know, you’re just like Wynonna. Always keeping me out of the loop, making decisions that suit you, without actually checking what I wanted! It seems like you don't really want me in your life Nicole.” 

“What? That’s the exact opposite of what I want, Waverly! I’m moving to your hometown! I want to be closer to you. Now more than ever.”

“Did you ever wonder why I was at the Museum of Anthropology at UBC?” Waverly asked out of left field. She paused as if she expected Nicole to answer but all she could do was shake her head as she scrambled to understand the direction the conversation was heading in. “I could've gone to the Museum of Vancouver, or Science World, or even the Police Museum, but I went to UBC. Why?”

Nicole tried to think through what Waverly was saying, but unlike Waverly, she wasn’t smart enough to work it all out for herself.

“Because they’ve been trying to get me to teach introductory courses there. They’ve been asking me for the last two years, but I kept saying no. Because I was afraid. Because they were all in one semester and it wouldn't pay enough to move to the city permanently. Because Wynonna needed me. Because the frickin’ goats might miss me. Any excuse to not take a step forward and then you. You, Nicole. Everything seemed possible when I was with you.”

_Seemed?_

_Was?_

“I went to see my old college roommate and bumped into the dean. Apparently, they still want me. After all this time, they still want me to teach there for half a year. With the advance for the book I can write for the other half. I can _finally_ leave Purgatory behind me.”

_Oh no…_

_No..._

“What did you say?” Nicole swallowed, feeling like her own insides were gluing together.

“I said I would think about it because I had to talk to my idiot girlfriend first. That I had to see if she wanted me to crash land on her life in the city. I told them that I had to ask her if it was too soon for me to move into the apartment she had already made space in for me, just so I would feel welcome when I visited. That I had to tell her I wanted to start living the life of my dreams. Away from _fucking_ Purgatory.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Oh, Nicole. Understatement of the goddamn century. I wanted to talk to you about all of this last night because I got an email from the dean, but... you won’t be in Vancouver by the time the job begins. You’ve made the decision for me.”

“No. No I haven’t. You can still take the job…”

“How? How can we still be… If I…. and you…”

_Oh my god...I’ve backed her into a corner._

_I’m such an idiot._

_She thinks she has to choose_

_Between the job… and..._

“I want you!” Nicole blurted in haste. “I want you in my life! I want you to move in with me! I want everything with you Waverly!”

“Everything except an honest conversation, huh?” Waverly accused with sorrow deep in her eyes.

“Honest conversation!? Jesus Waverly!” She was yelling now, panic making her say things before she had properly thought them through. Every emotion was right there on her face and her lips without a filter or an emergency stop button.

“You’re the one who won't even let me tell you how I feel, let alone you telling me what you feel for me! Fuck! I've tried to be patient…”

“You told me you would wait! That you would wait until I was ready. Was that all a lie too?’

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU WAVERLY EARP!”

Nicole gasped her truth into the air, her panicked eyes locked onto Waverly’s, unable to hold back the terrible words any longer.

Waverly looked like she had been slapped.

“I love you, and… I don’t know what you really feel about me other than what I can feel with my own hands. How you respond when I touch you. The look in your eyes when I catch you looking at me when you think I can’t see…”

Waverly was shaking her head. A quiet rejection of every word that Nicole couldn’t stop tumbling from her mouth.

_Because I watch you_

_Because I watch out for you_

_I notice when you’re in pain_

_I notice what brings you joy_

_Oh, but I didn’t listen to Wynonna_

_I didn’t see the burden of your past_

_I…_

_Oh, fuck…_

_I won’t hold you back._

_I won’t..._

“You don’t know _anything_ about me, Nicole Haught.” 

“No. How could I? How could I know anything about your hopes and dreams when you don't talk to me?" 

“I’m talking to you now Nicole. As soon as I got the information I needed. I came to you to talk it through.”

“So am I. You saw, the transfer papers arrived on Friday.”

“It’s not the same Nicole!”

“Yes. It is.” Nicole tried to interrupt, defensive despite already acknowledging her mistake to herself.

“No. I have a decision to make. You’ve already made yours.”

Silence fell, heavy and ozone scented, laden with monsoon rain.

“You’re moving to Purgatory.” Waverly spoke with finality, throwing the truth at Nicole like a homing dart.

“Yes.” Nicole replied, knowing her resolve to move to the small town that had captured her imagination was what she wanted, the transfer was already complete. She swallowed as Waverly stared her down, arms crossed, mouth pulled tight. Somehow, Nicole summoned the courage to speak and ask the question she didn’t want an answer to.

“And you?”

“Have a decision to make.” Waverly reiterated. Turning, Waverly stood to walk away. She spoke over her shoulder, refusing eye contact. “It looks like I need to make it on my own.”

“Waverly?” Nicole was scared. By her tone, by the look on her face when she turned. By the words themselves. “Wait….” she called softly and miraculously, Waverly paused.

Nicole stood, reaching and turning her around just enough to begin to touch their foreheads together. She wanted to tell her to make the decision that was right for her. That Nicole would move heaven and earth to make it work, but before she could gather any words Waverly had turned away, rejecting the familiar gesture of comfort. 

Rejecting Nicole outright, she pulled away, leaving Nicole frozen in place.

“Wait? I asked you to wait, and you couldn’t do it.” 

Waverly spoke two final words before disappearing into the night. 

“Goodbye Nicole.”  
  


(╯︵╰,)  
  


Nicole slept alone that night.

In the morning she searched for Waverly. 

She wasn’t in the yoga room, the Li-BAR-y, the kitchen or the games room. She knocked on everyone’s door, including Wynonna’s.

“Simmer it down, fire crotch. Girlfriends fight. She’ll cool down soon and come and talk to you. Just be patient. But if I found out you've been a dick to her, I might be taking more than your car for a joyride." 

"That threat would mean more if you didn't already have my cat hostage in Purgatory, Wynonna."

With the door slammed unceremoniously in her face, Nicole searched the grounds, running the looped tracks twice. She even searched the boat shed but all she found were wet ropes and the too gentle sounds of the water lapping against the wooden poles of the pier.

So she committed her own GTA, by taking the Millenium Falcon-bus and driving it to the ferry terminal.

She waited in the passenger lounge and watched every single person board every sailing until late into the night.

Wynonna boarded the last ferry with a promise to text if she heard from Waverly and a look of unconditional concern in her eyes.

Then, Nicole did the only thing left for her to do. She drove the bus back to Crofte Castle where Mercedes welcomed her with a tight smile, an open kitchen and a large bottle of wine which the pair drank in almost silence.

Nicole didn’t remember making it to her room.

When she woke in the late morning of the next day, her phone had a short series of texts from Wynonna.

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
11.55pm  
 _Truck’s still here.  
_ _I’m crashing at yours._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
12.30am  
 _Where the FUCK are your clean sheets Haught!_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
12.54am  
 _Never mind. Found your whiskey.  
_ _Sjk omg._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
2.57am  
 _Were you overly fond of that crystal bowl in the hallway?  
_ _I think Fireman Julie might have swiped it on the way out._

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ 11.21am  
 _Fireman Julie?!? How many hose-jockeys have you let into my apartment?_

But Wynonna didn’t open the message. Resigning herself to a long wait considering Wynonna was probably driving back to the Homestead by now, Nicole instead began to pack her things with a heavy weight in her heart.

Something felt wrong. 

This was bigger than an everyday fight.

It gnawed and gnawed at her as she collected her few belongings, noticing as she went that Waverly’s things were also gone.

Opening her duffle bag, a single piece of paper fell from where it had been caught, deliberately, in the zipper.

It didn’t take long to read the few words hastily scrawled in Waverly’s mesmerising swirly handwriting. It took about the same time as it took Nicole to sink to her knees in despair.

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
7.17pm  
 _Eh?_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
7.17pm  
 _Oh. Julie’s my nickname for the silver fox.  
_ _Cos I’m really not sure if it was Julian or Charlie if I'm honest._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
7.18pm  
 _You’re also out of Doritos._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
7.18pm  
 _And cat litter.  
_ _And alcohol. He took that too._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
7.18pm  
 _I’m home btw.  
_ _She’s not here.  
_ _So Waverly didn’t take the train either  
_ _Did she text you yet?_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
9.09pm  
 _Nicole?_

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ 9.11pm

[incoming image file]

 _Nicole,  
_ _I’m always there and I always stay.  
_ _But right now I need to go, and be, somewhere else.  
_ _Please, just let me be?  
_ _Waverly_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
9.12pm  
 _What the FUCK did you say to her Haught?  
_ _Where’s Waverly?  
_ _What’s going on?  
_ _HAUGHT!_

  
(¬_¬'')☆ ԅ(`0´*)  
  


 **Peggy Choux** @peggychouxbakes *6d  
Well done to @GB-CBO and @ColeCopperTop for not flinching away from showing this. Sometimes we need to be reminded that it’s ok to not be ok.

 **Jona$$** @BakeOffStanFan * 3hrs  
Can we have one friggin’ minute in the tent this week without someone crying about their baking? Last week was just sad!

 **haught handled my baps** @HaughtCouture *3hrs  
Have a heart @BakeOffStanFan - @.ColeCopperTop already acknowledged she was having a tough time personally last week. Why do you have to be such a dick? You do realise other people facing mental health challenges can read what you write on here, don’t you?

 _Pinned Tweet  
_ 🤍 _Wyno Whiskey and_ _JerBearBakes liked  
_ **Nicole Haught** @ColeCopperTop * 6d  
A very wise person once told me it isn’t a crime to ask for help. Another, equally wise person handed me the business card that helped me get it. The first step is important. If you need it, call the 310Mental Health Support (310-6789) hotline or consider donating to the Canadian Mental Health Association.

  
(¬_¬'')☆ ԅ(`0´*)  
  


 **AUTUMN  
** **Nicole’s house, Purgatory  
** **THURSDAY NIGHT**

Nicole sighed as she hate-scrolled through her social media notifications. The past week had been a lot to deal with. Everyone in Canada seemed to have an opinion on the state of her mental health, broadcast for all to see and speculate on the previous week. There had been a lot of wonderful moments, people sharing their own stories, the positive outcomes of therapy, but there had been many other hateful and unthinking messages as well. 

It was the ill-thought out ones that hurt the most though. Deliberately hateful nonsense could be easily deflected, but the unintentional sub-tweets, the long protracted pointless arguments that just kept bringing the subject back into her timeline eventually led her to stop replying. She didn’t want to disappear completely but every reply just prolonged the agony and rehashed the same tired discourse.

Eventually she had just pinned a tweet with links to services to her profile and switched her phone off. Until tonight.

With the Broadcast of Pâtisserie week in full swing, Nicole had found herself in desperate need for distraction. Waverly’s face was everywhere. Every shot was a reminder of how much she had struggled with the poor reception of her work, much more so that the eviscerations all the other bakers had also received that week. It only served to remind Nicole how she hadn’t noticed, too distracted by her own feelings, but it was there on screen now. Every flutter of Waverly’s eyes that blinked back tears, every frown that deepened the clouds behind her eyes into deeply bruised purple. All as plain as the hollow look on Nicole’s own face as Paul spat out her baking on national television.

_Was it any wonder she left me? I made it all about my pain and I...fuck. How am I going to get through the final judgements?_

Nicole reached for the remote control to switch off the show well before it finished, but her phone suddenly burst to life in her hand before she could. 

“ _Haught. You’re late”_

“No I’m not. I told you I wasn’t coming this week.”

“ _Yeah, and I told_ you _that you didn’t have a choice. We watch this shit show together because it’s_ our _shitshow!”_

Nicole sighed.

“ _Don’t fucking sigh through the phone at me!”_

“I can and I will. I’m not interested in watching my humiliation in surround fucking sound Wynonna. I’ve got my bottle of wine and my Golden Girls compilation DVD and everything is fine.”

“ _Liar! I can hear the Douche-Gorrilla from here.”_

“Okay, I _am_ watching it, but I do have a mostly empty bottle of wine that was mostly not empty when it started, so it’s still all fine.”

“ _Bullshit! I’m not there, so nothing is fine.”_

“Wynonna if you were here then everything would be the same kind of fine as in that meme with the dog in the room on fire. Nobody needs that.”

“ _Double bullshit. Nothing is fine until I arrive haught-buns and that’s why I’m calling. I’m gonna be late.”_

“What do you mean…”

“ _Fucking truck broke down again, but when I get there, which will be soon because Bamford Towing just pulled up behind me, we are going to watch it again, from the beginning, ON DEMAND!_ ”

“Good luck with that. I feel the sudden need to go out for a walk.”

“ _Don’t you dare, Hau…_ ”

Nicole hung up on her friend, knowing that no force in the Universe would stop an Earp on a mission. So she resigned herself to giving up on her empty threat and sat through the entire Showstopper disaster, waiting in anticipation for her friend’s actually really rather welcome arrival. It only took ten minutes for an insistent pounding start up on her front door. 

**_“Well, it’s safe to say that the deliberations were long and hard. Pâtisserie is such a fiddly thing and the smallest of mistakes can lead to disaster…_ ** **”**

“No shit, Mel…” Nicole muttered under her breath as she reached for the door handle to let Wynonna in. She wondered idly if she would see Wynonna’s face first, or the now customary pineapple Wynonna would shove at her every time she visited her house. 

**_“But I have to announce that the baker going home this week, despite making no noticeably terrible mistakes, is…”_ **

Nicole’s hand turned the knob, and as she opened the door, her voice unintentionally synched with Mel’s crashing out of the television behind her, as they both uttered the most powerful word in the English language. 

_“Waverly.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ┬┴┬┴┤(·_├┬┴┬┴


	10. Don’t be Cruller (by Elvis Presnitz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we hear from Waverly for the first time, and find out what led her to Nicole’s door. Set in the week between between Jeremy’s Moderately Gay dinner when week 7: Vegan was broadcast (Chapter 8) and Waverly’s arrival at Nicole’s door when week 8: Patisserie was broadcast (Chapter 9).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! There’s an Extra Slice of The Great British-Columbia Bake Off this week!
> 
> Or there would have been. But this week I became a hobbling fanfic writer cliche with a medical problem that delayed me getting this chapter ready to publish on Tuesday like I originally intended. So now, weeks 11 and 12 of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off will be published out of sequence from the real life show. 
> 
> For those who haven't seen it before, Extra Slice is a companion show to Bake Off where comedians and other British celebrities I’ve barely heard of sit down and analyse the week’s episode and the exiting baker is interviewed about their time in the tent. So of course we need to see Waverly on this show, right? RIGHT?
> 
> Additional tags:  
> Sailor!Waverly - She’ll sail a boat!  
> Anti-Anthony speaks truth to power  
> AAAAAAAANGST!

“  
 _Don’t be cruel_

_To a heart that’s true_

“

 **Previously on the** **Great British-Columbia Bake Off...**

**Pâtisserie Week Judgements  
  
**

(--...--) ┌iii┐  
  


 **INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** The remaining bakers, Wynonna, Jeremy, Waverly, Nedley and Nicole are perched on stools in a line, waiting for the arrival of the judges and presenters for the final judgements in week eight: Pâtisserie week, of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off.

 **SUE  
** I have never in my life been more grateful to have the job of announcing this week’s star baker. With a sea of caramel I’d happily drown in, the daintiest choux parapets we’ve ever seen in the tent and salty nuns balls you could arrest for ‘a-salt’ and battery, this week’s Star Baker, is… Nicole!

All the bakers grin and clap for a clearly shocked Nicole. None more so than Waverly. Sitting in the middle of the line of bakers, she hops down from her stool with liquid sunshine shining in her eyes. She walks over to the end of the line of bakers, and carefully pins the Star Baker badge to Nicole’s apron with a gentle kiss to her cheek. 

**WAVERLY  
** I’m proud of you…

 **NICOLE  
** But… _I_ should be leaving...

 **WAVERLY  
** No. Not today.

 **MEL  
** Ahh, that means it’s my turn to talk now. I really don’t want to do this. Are you sure Paul?

Paul’s impassive stare makes Mel gulp. She chokes a little so her voice is raspy as she turns, asking Mary who responds by avoiding all eye contact.

 **MEL  
** Well, it’s safe to say that the deliberations were long and hard. Pâtisserie is such a fiddly thing and the smallest of mistakes can lead to disaster. But I have to announce that the baker going home this week, despite making no noticeably terrible mistakes, is… Waverly.

Mel speaks as if she can’t quite believe she’s said Waverly’s name. Everyone except Waverly exhales in shock. Waverly has already walked over to Mel and Sue to accept their hug of commiseration while everyone else sits slack jawed, rooted to their seats like if they moved it would suddenly all be real.

 **WYNONNA  
** But that’s [bleep]!

Jeremy and Nedley join the group hug so Waverly can’t see Wynonna march up to Paul. She pushes him firmly in the chest with her finger as she continues to swear at him. Mel and Sue quietly shepherd the others from the tent and Nicole is left sitting on her own, tears streaming down her face, still in shock. Her hand grips the star baker tightly. She has ripped it off her apron.

 **CUT. TENT EXT.  
** Paul tries to explain the judges controversial decision. Mary at least has the good grace to look saddened by it, but the red around the rims of her eyes could, of course, be entirely unrelated to the emotional ending to Pâtisserie week.

 **PAUL  
** Nearly everyone had a disaster at some point, but they all had stunning successes too. Jeremy’s showstopper saved him because his flavours were once again spot on. Everyone had a story just like that. Everyone except Waverly. Waverly had what, by her normally high standards, was an average week and that was her undoing. It is a shame, but you can’t be average now. Mediocrity won’t get you through to the final. Not with this cast of amazing home bakers.

 **MARY  
** I don’t think I’ve ever felt more terrible about choosing a baker to go home than I have this week. Waverly’s only crime was to not produce something exceptional. Had any of the other bakers not done so, it would have been them to go. But Wynonna saved herself with her perfect signature choux, Nicole’s top placing in the technical tipped her towards Star Baker despite her inedible Religieuse in the showstopper. Randy’s Paris-Brest was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Waverly’s bakes were all perfectly nice, but none were exceptional. Unfortunately, her showstopper was a case of far too little, far too late.

(--...--) ┌iii┐

 **AUTUMN  
** **STRAIT OF GEORGIA  
** **Vancouver, B.C  
** **Week 7: Vegan Broadcast day  
** **MORNING**

Waverly loved sailing.

The feeling of the sea-salted wind in her face as she trimmed the mainsail of Mattie’s sloop, felt like old ski being scrubbed away by the elements leaving a completely new person behind. It felt like being cleansed, or being reborn into a vision of a life that had space in it for Waverly. Where she could be more than just the ‘nice’ girl, where she could in fact, be exceptional. 

After a handful of lessons from an impressed Mattie, Waverly had felt confident enough to take control of the craft herself, and the experience was transformational. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was in command, the wind and sea parting at her whim. The exhilaration made her feel powerful. Fears dropped away and all that remained was a deep sense that the sea itself was protecting her, holding back anything that could bring her harm.

Waverly looked behind her, searching for Mattie’s comforting and knowledgeable input. She knew they were about to enter the shipping lanes as they made their way around the coast towards Burrard Inlet and Vancouver Harbour. Receiving the thumbs up she was looking for, Waverly joined her in the small cabin as the sloop made steady progress towards their destination. 

“Here.” Mattie declared as soon as she was inside, thrusting a dog-eared laminated sheet in her direction. “Radio in our approach.”

“Oh. Are you sure you don’t wanna do that yourself?”

“Waverly. We’ve been over this.” Mattie called back with a calmness that immediately settled Waverly’s quickly growing nerves. Mattie had a sense of control about her at all times that was unsettling but somehow, also reassuring.

“I don’t understand how you flip so easily from the confident lioness who learns the complexities of sailing, weather patterns and tides to the timid mouse frightened of talking on the radio. Call us in. Now.”

“Ohhh...okay.” Waverly clicked down the broadcasting button and hyper-focussed on the Laminated sheet.

“Uhhh, This is the _Hephaestus_ calling in our approach to Vancouver Harbour. Please respond.” 

Mattie nudged her with her hip. 

“Oh, shit. Right!” Waverly clicked the broadcast button down again. “Over. I forgot to say that bit. Uh, … Over. And Out. Shit. I did that bit wrong. Can I start again?”

 **_This is the Harbourmaster.  
_ ** **_Go ahead Hephaestus, over._ **

“She’s laughing at me.” Waverly said, detecting a hint of amusement in the crackly voice over the radio.”

“You’re doing fine Waverly.” Mattie spoke quietly. “Everyone gets it wrong the first time. I swore like a sailor on my first go. My father nearly sailed into the path of the ferry, he was laughing so hard.”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”

**_Hephaestus, please state your intended route and MMSI, over._ **

“Oh, shoot. Um. _Hephaestus_ 306-666-061 here. We have two passengers aboard heading to Royal Vancouver Yacht Club. Intended stay is one night before returning to Sooke in the morning, over.”

 **_Hephaestus, you are cleared to approach.  
_ ** **_Tell Mattie to check in with us_ ** **personally** **_before departure, over._ **

“Um… 10-4 Harbourmaster. Over?”

 **_That’s police code Hephaestus but I’ll take it.  
_ ** **_Harbourmaster out._ **

“Oh, Sorry. Uh, _Hephaestos_ out.”

“You did great!” Mattie enthused. “Don’t mind Pat. We used to date in college and she likes to give me a hard time. She’ll just want to know who you are like it’s some form of high-seas gossip, and, possibly, give me some forms and stuff to make what I’ve taught you legal.”

“Wait! This is ILLEGAL!?” Waverly ‘eeped’ out at the same frequency as a frightened mouse.

“No! It’s not illegal to teach, but you might need to look into getting a licence to pilot. If you want to do this on your own one day.”

Waverly’s brow wrinkled as she gave it thought. 

_Sailing is terrifying_

_But I love it._

_Because this is freedom._

_This is… power._

_I could never do this on my own though._

_Yes I could._

_Mattie believes it._

_I believe it too._

“Fuck, yeah.” Waverly finally breathed out her quiet yet determined response, turning to look at Mattie with a widening grin. The satisfied, almost smirk set to her lips was all the confirmation Waverly needed to feel like it was a good decision to beat back her inner critic. 

Actually, making any kind of decision felt good.

She headed back out to the deck, ready to stow the sails when Mattie needed to switch to approaching the harbour mouth under motor. While waiting, Waverly allowed her mind to wander. She imagined languorous days with nothing better to do that stare far, far out into the ocean. She felt like she was flying. 

She felt free. 

Right up until the pair approached West Point. All of Waverly’s calm evaporated in the wind with the slow reveal of the Vancouver skyline and the odd building Waverly knew belonged to the University of British Columbia.

_Shittickets..._

It had been thirteen weeks since Waverly had left the Great British-Columbia Bake Off tent. 

Thirteen weeks since she had called Mattie in floods of befuddled tears, not knowing what to do or where to go. Thirteen weeks since Mattie had sailed in the early morning light to a boat shed bathed in fairy lights hiding a bereft and mildly wine-drunk Waverly sat amidst the detritus of a looted picnic hamper. Thirteen weeks since Waverly had sailed away in the early morning light, where the gentle swaying and sound of water lapping at the sides of the craft had finally lulled her into a restless slumber. 

Thirteen weeks - 83 days - where she hadn’t so much as messaged the woman Vancouver City had come to symbolise for her. The woman whose fiery hair and warm embrace had parted the fog that so often wrapped itself around her heart. The woman she had fallen deeply, desperately…

_But I left her. I left Nicole. I had to. Before..._

Waverly consciously stilled her mind before her thoughts could spiral. It had happened too many times before, her mind swirling and spinning with a centrifugal force, making her feel dizzy, like if it stopped, she would fall hard and fast towards a painful, shattering impact. Sometimes, it made her afraid she would never, ever stop falling.

A shout from Mattie broke through Waverly’s reverie and together they worked to stow the sails and Waverly learned more about piloting under motor, the subtle changes in the torque of the engine fascinating her in how delicate and precise such a powerful machine could be. Mattie turned the sloop so it gently bumpered against the pier and Waverly threw out the first mooring rope. She jumped out quickly to secure it, Mattie following down the length of the craft, throwing the final two lines to Waverly.

“Okay. Great work Waverly. You’ll be doing this on your own in no time. Frankly, you’re an excellent co-pilot.”

Waverly hid her blush behind her hop back onto the deck of the _Hephaestus_ to retrieve her day bag. “Thanks Mattie.” She spoke quietly but meaningfully. She wanted to explain just how much Mattie’s faith in her meant, but she knew the other woman would just brush off the sentiment.

True to form, Mattie was already looking ahead to the next problem, unmindful of the emotional storm Waverly was mired in. “We need to sync our schedules. I’d like to catch the outgoing tide tomorrow morning so we’ll be leaving at around 09.20. Right now I need to head into the studio for the Extra Slice pre-recording briefing.”

“Ohhh, exciting! Good luck!”

“Oh, I’m gonna need it. They want to announce Champ’s new show so he’s going to be a guest too.”

“I still can’t believe you agreed to do it with him.”

“Neither can I, but my sister is boiling with jealousy so it’s worth it. Besides, I told you I would get the boy-man back for how he tried to blackmail you.” 

“That you did.” Waverly chuckled. “Hey, do you wanna meet for dinner so you can tell me ALL the gossip?”

“I can’t. I have plans.”

Waverly tried not to look disappointed. She had barely spent any time in human company that wasn’t Mattie’s over the last three months but she did have errands of her own. “Oh. It’s okay. I’ve got a meeting with my editors and I need to catch up with my friend Rosita too. She’s got more information on why the UBC job offer fell through. I think she may be losing her job, so post work drinks might roll on to dinner and a relaxing night on the town.”

“Okay, but I feel like I should be upfront about this.” Mattie shifted nervously as she gathered her own things and hauled herself up onto the pier, offering her hand to help Waverly up too. “I’m having dinner at Robin and Jeremy’s. They didn’t expressly invite you because they didn’t know you were coming with me this week, but you know they would welcome you with open arms If you wanted to join us all.”

Mattie avoided eye contact as she spoke, instead of maintaining her customary pointed stare. Waverly was quite frankly, a little wigged out.

“Uh, Wynonna will be there.” 

Waverly froze. 

“Nicole will be there too.” Mattie confessed quietly, before Waverly could gather enough thoughts to reply. Her stomach dropped, made leaden by the sound of that name spoken out loud instead of rattling quietly around in her own mind like a ghost conjured by an old-fashioned stage magician.

_Nicole?_

_Nicole’s in the city tonight?_

“Oh.” It was the only word she could force past her lips. Waverly turned away from her friend quickly, trying to hide the confluence of shock, fear and joy that surged through her at the mere mention of her (former?) girlfriend’s name. 

“Waverly.” In the entire time Waverly had spent at the forge, Mattie had never pried, never tried to get her to open up. She had just given her work when she asked for it, sometimes with a raised eyebrow, mostly with a barely perceptible grunt. But now, Mattie asked all those unasked questions with a single utterance of her name. Waverly hated it. 

“I’m not ready. To see either of them.” Waverly turned. Mattie’s body language was one of complete disbelief and annoyance. Her arms folded, perma-frown fixed in place with a cocked hip and a sigh tumbling from her mouth that said ‘Waverly Earp you are my friend but sometimes I want to poke you with a cattle brand.’

“I can’t. It’s been too long.” Waverly offered feebly 

“Bullshit.”

“It has!”

“Bullshit.”

“Why bullshit, Mattie? My sister is pregnant and I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to be capable of giving her the support she deserved. Nicole… she’s been nothing but respectful and hasn’t tried to sway me or dissuade me. She’s been so patient and they just don’t deserve…”

“Bullshit.”

“Mattie, Nicole messaged me a week ago and I didn’t even reply! She sounded so lost and afraid and I’ve been such a terrible person…”

“Bullshit.”

Matties tone hadn’t changed throughout their exchange, and neither had her disbelieving stance.

“It’s too late…”

“Bullshit.”

“They won’t want…”

“AH! BULLSHIT WAVERLY! MY GOD!”

Waverly took a step back, feeling like she had been struck by a sudden blast of fiery air. She felt wobbly, like her backwards step had taken her as far towards the cliff edge as she could go before gravity would exert its will upon her.

“You are one of the most precociously intelligent people I have ever met and the fact that you so easily slip into this costume of self-sabotage is the only truly annoying thing about you.”

“But I’m vegan.”

“Is the second most annoying thing about you.” Mattie corrected.

“What do you mean?” Waverly asked, her innate curiosity and need to understand temporarily overcoming her sense of emotional vertigo.

“I don’t understand how you get all the essential minerals in a vegan diet.”

“No…” Waverly rolled her eyes. “...I don’t self-sabotage…” She let her sentence trail away as she became fascinated with the height Matties single eye-brow raise into her hairline. “...do I?”

“Waverly. How do you know what they want if you don’t talk to them?”

“I… I’m afraid.”

“Yes. So are they.”

“I don’t even know where to start, Mattie. The fog is so thick.” She closed her eyes as the familiar dense weight of her thoughts expanded inside her brain, bringing with it a pressure that made every piece of research, evidence and analysis she knew she needed to draw on blur in front of her, rendering it all useless without removing the suffocating heaviness.

“I don’t even know what _I_ really want. How can I give either of them anything if I can’t even sort out myself?”

“We are all humans Waverly. We can’t do anything completely on our own. Not forever. Maybe, it’s time to reach out and ask for help?”

“How? It’s been so long.”

Shoving her hand roughly inside Waverly’s bag, Mattie took out her phone and pressed it forcefully into her hand. “You’ve got your call sign. Radio in.” Then, she pushed Waverly away by her shoulders, giving her a pointed stare before walking away.

A gaggle of bastard seagulls flew into the air in her wake, loudly squawking as they rose up like a herald's arch making Mattie look almost majestic and otherworldly, the Archangel Gabriel personified. She walked through without getting a single bit of bird shit on her.

Lost in her thoughts, Waverly was not so fortunate.

⋛⋋( ‘Θ’)⋌⋚

_

_-_

**GUILT & COMPANY COCKTAIL BAR   
** **Gastown, Vancouver B.C.  
** **EVENING**

“And then I just… walked away!” 

The bar was dark and intimate, the music slowly growing louder and more enthusiastic as the night wore on. Good food paired with even gooderer wine and an old friend for company lead Waverly to slightly buzzed confessions of heartbreak as a funny story you say but don’t feel.

“Well, sailed away actually. Just up and left and completely ghosted her because… because… I don’t know exactly.” Waverly finished the story with a grin on her face and storm clouds behind her eyes. Clouds that Rosita, despite her multiple qualifications in engineering and biochemistry, had no hope of perceiving thanks to Waverly's well-honed ‘smile and wave’ cloak of invisibility.

“You are a good person Waverly Earp. To be honest she sounds kinda controlling. Who moves to the boondocks a few weeks after meeting someone anyway.” Rosita asked, confusion clear on her face.

“Well, I was really mad but that doesn’t explain why I didn’t call.”

“‘Cos she was being a dick, Waverly.”

“No, I’m beginning to see that I was the dick. At least 70% dick. Actually, maybe 90% dick?”

“Waverly please stop saying ‘dick’ before it manifests.”

“Anyway, listen to me going on and on. I’m sorry you lost your job Rosita, I can’t even imagine.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve already been headhunted by BCIT. I start next month. I’m the one who's sorry Waverly. I dangled a huge carrot out to you with all that online learning plan. Honestly, I had no idea management were actually planning a huge restructure before kicking it off.”

“I’m not going to sit here and say I wasn’t devastated when the dean called. It’s been on the cards for so long that it really felt like having it all delayed again was unfairly pulling the rug out from under me. Then again, this time last year, I didn’t have all these other opportunities waiting for me.”

“Oh, yeah! Tell me about the book!”

“I will Rosie, but please. I want you to know it’s not your fault. UBC were the real dicks.”

“Oh, one hundred percent dick. Ahhh, shit. Now we _absolutely have_ to stop saying ‘dick’. We’ve summoned the Instagram-ready man meat.”

“What? Where? Ohhhh, hey there!” Waverly signalled with an awkward wave of ‘hello’ as a somewhat buff individual with a show-off smirk planked to his moustachioed lips walked up to the pair, entirely unsolicited.

“Hi ladies. I’m new in town and I was wondering if you might have any recommendations for places to see and things to… do in Vancouver.” 

“Dude, no.” Rosita dismissed him, with enough disdain that he really should have just walked away.

“No? Just as well I was asking your friend here.” The buffman’s ironically worn 80’s moustache seemed to turn towards Waverly before the rest of face caught up. She could only smile awkwardly in response, willing him to give up and leave but not wanting to seem impolite either. She didn’t win the ‘nicest person in Purgatory’ sash for nothing.

“We’re not friends.” Rosita deadpanned before taking another sip of her drink.

“You’re not?” The man replied at the same time as Waverly said ‘We’re not?”

“We’re gay, you imbecile.” 

The man laughed, all haughty disdain. A thin disguise for his surprise and hurt pride.

“Nah, I call bullshit on that. How can two, well, one at least…” He turned his unwanted attention away from Rosita and instead flashed his clearly expensive fake white smile at Waverly. “...beautiful women be…”

“Like this, asshole.”

Before Waverly could catch up to Rosita’s actions, She found herself pulled forward by her neck and crashed into Rosita’s lips.

She had kissed Rosita before. A few times actually. 

Once at a party, where they had been just drunk enough to realise that the simmering sexual tension in their dorm had no substance to it after all. They had devolved into a fit of giggles almost as soon as their lips had touched. The other times had been in situations exactly like this, to ostentatiously prove a point to walking crotches with visibly missing brain cells.

This time, the last pair of lips that had touched Waverly’s were Nicole’s. 

She still held the memory of how they tasted deep within her. She knew how they moved against her own, when they would part, exactly how much reciprocal pressure she would need to exert to encourage Nicole to let out the softest exhalation of joy.

This wasn’t Nicole. 

So everything was wrong. 

The world stopped spinning for just a fraction of a second but that was all it took. 

And Waverly fell.

She crashed, on Rosita’s lips, the impact shattering her assumptions about her ability to exist in a world without Nicole kissing her, without Nicole’s sighs of contentment, without Nicole telling her she...

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Rosita confessed warily, as the buff-man turned on his heel and walked away. Waverly could feel her friend's eyes on her, frowning in concern as she realised Waverly wasn’t entirely on board with their old game.

“No, it’s okay.”

“It’s clearly not. Shit, Waverly. I’m really sorry. Sometimes I forget it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other..”

“Rosita, I promise it’s fine I just…I’m with Nicole.” She blurted out. “I _was_ with Nicole and I wish… I _want…”_

_She’ll leave_

_Everyone I love does_

_So I left first_

_I’m miserable either way_

_I want more than this_

**_I want her_ **

_For as long as she wants me_

_“You were my forever girl”  
_ _“I was gon’ love you forever”  
_ _“I loved you more than I ever loved ANYONE!”_

_Her messages used the past tense_

_She’s already over me_

_I don’t_ **_know_ ** _that, not for sure. Not unless I ask..._

“You’re making but-face.”

“Excuse me?” Waverly shook her head slightly, returning to the growing noise in the bar, filled with the happy chatter of other people.

“You know what I mean! You used to do this all the time in college. You’re debating with yourself in real time inside your head, but I’m right here Waverly. You can talk to me.”

“I know Rosie, I just... I think I need to go and make a phone call. I’ll catch you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure Waverly. Whatever you need, but please, promise me something?”

Waverly paused as she gathered her things to go.

“Stop waiting for everything to be perfect.” Rosita twisted her whiskey glass in circles on the table, refusing to look Waverly’s confused face in the eye. “Imagine this is a glass of champagne, bubbles rising to the surface. The bubbles are unpredictable, they can’t be controlled and yet without them, champagne isn’t champagne. It’s just… grape juice.”

“Eh?” Waverly scrunched up her face as she tried to follow Rosita’s analogy.

“The defects in the glass are called nucleation points and they trap these tiny, vibrating pockets of the carbon dioxide. So, no defect, no bubbles, no magic.”

“I still don’t…”

“Waverly, waiting for perfection gives you a life of grape juice. It sounds like you found a fridge full of never ending bottles of champagne. Embrace the defects. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. It doesn’t exist. All you have to do is call.”

_All I have to do is call_

_All I have to do is call_

Waverly sent a text message.  
  


(っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)  
  


_Why the shiznitz did I send that?_

Waverly wandered back towards the _Hephaestus_ in a daze, so lost in thought she walked right past the Yacht Club and joined the coastal seawall walkway without consciously choosing to. She walked past Hallelujah Point in the fading light, stopping at the bleak, exposed rocks in front of the plinth housing the ‘9 o'clock gun’ monument.

She sat among the shallow rock pools left by the outgoing tide and watched the boats casting shadows in front of the Vancouver skyline. It’s redolent lights screamed confidence and knowing purpose. Waverly found herself wishing for an off switch, longing to bring the piercing light and noise to a dark standstill. 

Oystercatchers and barges, shuttling cargo, people, goods, came and went as she sat with only her thoughts and the seagulls for company, all equally unnoticing of a small, insignificant figure hunched on the rocks, hugging her own knees for comfort. Waverly closed her eyes, inhaling the salty air. It felt damper than usual, like it was mixed with water from an incoming squall. 

Waverly could sense the change in the air. The tide gripped and pulled a little bit harder at the rocks as the waves crashed, breaking close enough to nip and splatter Waverly’s legs. A bitter cold sat next to her bones but she still couldn’t bring herself to move. 

_What have I done?_

The thought swirled endlessly, becoming almost like a chant, but it beat rather than droned. It beat with a heavy finality.

The loud squawk of seagulls too close to her ears startled Waverly. It almost sounded like a scream, but she had nothing to give them. Nothing for gaping, hungry maws that screamed for anything to calm their hungry bellies.

_Shut up assholes! God, You’re worse than the goats!_

The loud screeching was suddenly overtaken by a new obnoxious sound, as her phone blared to life with an incoming call. It jolted Waverly so violently that she fumbled the phone, dropping it into her lap.

_It’s Wynonna..._

_Shit._

She contemplated not answering for a split second before her brain jumped to ‘The Baby!’ and she answered on the third insistent ring. Wynonna’s unmistakably brusque tone invaded her ears before Waverly could even say hello.

_“Did you really marry a skull!”_

“Oh, uh, Mattie told you that story did she?” Waverly winced. 

_“Oh yeah, and a whole buttload more too. Welcome back to Vancouver Waves.”_

Wynonna’s snark cut through her evident shortness of breath. 

_Is she running?Oh, SHIT! Has she found me?_

Waverly could hear her moving through the sounds of too many people and too much traffic. Despite neither of those things being anywhere near the sea front, Waverly still found herself looking back towards the walkway, half expecting to see her super pissed sister barrelling towards her.

 _“Are you even listening, baby girl? I_ said _, why the fuck did you text Haughtstuff.”_

Her guilt crashed and billowed like the sea against the rocks, growing in power merely from the tone in which Wynonna spoke; disbelief evaporated into a fog of contemptuous accusation. Waverly steeled herself, knowing she had no comeback, no recourse but to weather the storm as it raged around her. Eventually, she answered in a soft, powerless voice, acutely aware of how utterly lame she sounded.

“She sent me a bunch of drunk messages last week and… I wanted to know if she was okay.” 

_“You wanted to know if she’s… Jesus, Waverly. No, she’s not ‘okay’. She hasn’t been ‘okay’ since the day you just completely fucking disappeared out of our lives, and don’t pretend like this is fucking news to you. Don’t you dare.”_

“I’m sorry, I don’t know… I mean, I have been in contact, a little, with you. I figured you’d have told me if… if it was bad?” It was an excuse, and Waverly knew it.

“ _For fuck sake Waverly! A few phone calls here and there to tell me exactly how wrong I’m living my life does_ **not** _count as contact.”_

The sounds had petered out now and Waverly caught the first hints that Wynonna was regaining her breath. She wished she hadn’t. 

_“You never asked about Haughtstuff. Not even once.”_

A silence stretched out between the sisters, the strain evident in the small sounds of held breaths and barely contained tears. Before Waverly could draw together the courage to speak again, to admit to her failings, Wynonna continued.

_“You’ve barely even asked about the baby. Or me. I’m not fine either by the way.”_

“I’m sorry…”

_“You were supposed to come with me to the ante-natal classes. You were supposed to come to the sonograms. You were supposed to go to the store and buy Ben and Jerry’s at one a.m. just because it felt like the world would end if I didn’t have it, but you weren’t there. You know who was?”_

“Nicole.” Waverly breathed.

 _“Yeah, Nicole. She held my hand, she listened to my rants about Doc’s uselessness_ **_and_ ** _his predilection for assless chaps in the bedroom…”_

“Please, we all know that’s you.” Waverly found herself interjecting without thought.

_“Not the point Waverly. Shut up and listen until my rant is over, I deserve at least that much from you.”_

“I know, I’m sorry.” Waverly wasn’t sure how many times she could say sorry without summoning her own personal ‘Bloody Mary’ demon to haunt her for the rest of time.

 _“Nicole made sure I got to all my appointments, she kept a freakin’ pregnancy diary for me, she took me_ **_shopping_ ** _, Waverly.”_

“Oh my god…”

 _“I KNOW! Every week no matter how much of an asshole I was or how often I stole her keys, she was there, all while her heart was slowly breaking. She was here instead, being the sister I needed, and I couldn’t even be grateful, Waverly because I_ **wanted** _you. I wanted you to be here too. You were supposed to be my back-up. Not a stick-up-her-butt ginger-asshole-narc who I would die for just as readily as I’d die for you.”_

Waverly let her tears fall, opening herself up to every word as it poured from her sister's mouth. She knew she deserved every word, no matter how harsh it felt to hear it. 

“I know. You’re right, I should have been there. I’ll never stop being sorry Wynonna, but…”

 _“Everything after the ‘butt’ is just shitstains in your shorts.”_ Wynonna dismissed with a hint of bitterness. 

“...I’m glad you had her. I’m glad you had each other.” Waverly heard Wynonna swallow with a gulp, and a small sniff. She could see her sister in her mind's eye, letting her hair fall around her face, hand wiping at her eyes.

 _“She_ is _surprisingly awesome.You finally picked a good one, that's for sure. Never tell her I said that.”_

“Wynonna, she makes me feel like I could light the world on fire and get away with it just because she was holding my hand." 

The words were out of Waverly’s mouth before she even thought them, because it was true. Nicole made her feel like anything was possible, that everything _was_ possible. Even running away to find yourself and hoping the world didn’t burn away behind you, but of course it had burned, and Waverly had left Wynonna and Nicole behind to burn in her wake.

_“Baby girl, you’re not holding her hand. You’re holding her leash.”_

“Excuse me?”

_“Back when this all started, right from the very first day in the tent, Haught bounded up to you like a lost innocent fucking puppy. You put a collar on her and told her to sit and she fucking did, Waverly. She’s been sitting here, chewing on it ever since._

_She has no idea what’s going on. All she knows is she loves you and you left and as far as she’s aware you're not coming back. Hell, she thinks you never really cared about her because you haven’t talked to her for MONTHS._

“I never said I wasn’t…”

 _“You never said ANYTHING Waverly! You know, Haughtstuff told me what you argued about. You were getting ready for take off with that job offer in the city and you felt like Nicole had thrown a shackle on you by moving to Purgatory, but bondage was never her thing baby girl. You know damn well she wouldn’t have tied you down. It’s you. You’re the one who’s tied_ her _down because she’s just sitting here, like a loyal ginger stray waiting for you to say something.”_

“I know, I know…” Waverly whispered. The truth of her sister's words ringing with each perfect hit. She felt stunned, the combo’s piling up to a perfect K. O.

_“You know, when she told me about UBC she had the biggest smile on her face even though the tears wouldn’t stop and I had half the barrel of Peacemaker up her nose. All because she was so fucking proud of you. Just like I’m so fucking proud of you. We always knew you were destined to fly Waverly. The city looks good on you.”_

“It does?” She said, small, like a child.

_“Yeah. God we both just want you to be happy. More than that. Happy and fulfilled. So can you please just… stop. Stop and tell her.”_

“Stop what? Tell her what?”

_“Stop treating her like your own personal marionette puppet, and tell her that you aren’t coming back.”_

Waverly let a sob wrack through her throat at the mere thought. “Are you saying it’s too late? I have to just… let her go? There’s no scenario where I can make it right?” 

_“No, baby sis! That’s not… is that what you want? Because she already thinks she’s lost you. Have you given her any reason at ALL to hope?”_

Her silence spoke volumes which only seemed to exasperate Wynonna more.

_“Jesus, Waverly. If you ever cared for her, I’m begging you. Let go of her leash. Maybe she’ll run off as soon as you do, or maybe she’ll jump on you and lick your face, I don’t know, I can’t metaphor. Just, DO SOMETHING!”_

“I know, I know.” Waverly pleaded, repeating it over and over but Wynonna kept pushing.

_“Because ultimately it doesn’t matter what you want. Haught deserves to decide for herself. Tell her the truth, because your wings won’t stretch too far if your head and your heart are shoved up your own ass!”_

Wynonna hung up. She had made her peace and then cut the mooring rope, setting Waverly back adrift amongst her own thoughts, where there was no one to save her except herself.

Waverly cried. 

She cried for Nicole, She cried for herself, she cried for the indecision that continued to cloud her thoughts. She cried for the lost weeks of Wynonna's pregnancy and the relationship she could feel straining with every moment she spent away from home. She cried as she failed to surf the waves of guilt that crashed through her for being so cold and distant over the past few weeks. Yet the wind whipped her tears away as she stared unseeing to the storm growing on the horizon. They were gone as soon as they were shed, along with any hope for catharsis or release, let alone comfort they might have offered under different auspices.

_God, I’m such an asshole._

Through her tears, Waverly took out her phone and read the text message again. Another fumbled miscommunication filled with mixed signals and not enough information. She should’ve listened to Mattie and used the radio cheat sheet. Name, MMSI, Number of passengers and destination.

_Waverly Earp, 306-I’m-so-fucking-sorry, one to dock at home. Are the lanes clear, over?_

_Instead, she’d waited s_ even whole days to send:

 _Hi Nicole…  
_ _I got your messages last week...  
_ _You were pretty drunk!...  
_ _I guess I just wanted to check that you’re okay?_

“I guess. I wanted to check. That you’re okay…” Waverly sniffed, wiping at her face inelegantly with her sleeve. It sounded so callous now, so needlessly casual, especially accented by Waverly’s tear strained voice.

Then the unthinkable.

Three little dots began bouncing around under the message.

Three dots… 

Nicole was replying. 

She was typing back a message to her horrible, unthinking and inane question. 

_**Bvbvbvb**  
_ _**Bvbvbvb**  
_ _Nicole Cutie 🥧  
_ 7.57pm:   
_No._

| | | | |

ヽ(°□° )ノ

 **VOICE MEMOS  
** TALKING TO NICOLE

12/09 9:32

. ____________________________________ .

9:32 -0:00

_Nicole…_

_Can you tell I’ve been crying? Well,_ that _made it obvious. You know I’m an ugly crier. Blotchy face and snot for days!_

_I can’t get hold of my thoughts, Nicole. I can’t understand what I’ve done. How I’ve been silent for so long. Whatever possessed me to send such a needlessly banal text?_

_I wish I had never sent it._

_No. That’s not true. I wish I had sent a different text message._

_I wish I had sent you something that let you know I was still here, that I wanted to stop. Stop what I still don’t know. I just know that I’m hurting you, and I’m hurting Wynonna and keeping it all to myself inside my skull isn’t helping._

_Seclusion isn’t helping._

_So I’m going to talk._

_Maybe you’ll never hear these words, but if I talk then_ **_I_ ** _have to hear it. I feel like I have to talk some sense into me._

_Because right now, I’ve decided to let you go._

_You’ll be better off without me._

_Wynonna made so much sense. I'm holding on too tight. I don't wanna leave you tied to a pole all day... but that's what I've done. Tied you up with no word of when I'll be back. You deserve to be free._

_You deserve to be free of me._

[CAW!]

_Oh, hear that? That’s the Waverly Earp mariachi band. That one freakin’ seagull screams it’s lungs out whenever I talk like that._

_I’ve called him Anti-Anthony because he’s as noisy as goat-Anthony and barely human-Anthony are quiet._

_He seems to want me to clarify_

_You deserve to be free of me. But I need to admit it to myself. That’s not what I want._

_I don't_ want _to let you go. I just think you need me to._

[CAAAAW! A-A-A-A-CAW! CAWCAWCAW!]

_SHUT UP ANTHONY! ARGH!!!_

_…_

_Okay. I had to pause this because Anti-Anthony followed me back to the_ Hephaestus _and threw himself at the porthole. I had to throw him a snack to get him to calm down._

_Where was I?_

_Right. Wanting you, but knowing I can’t have you._

_There’s so much I never told you because I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Well. I’m ready now._

_So here I am._

_This is me. Doing something._

_It’s time to talk._

_..._

_I want to tell you about my dream._

_I know you noticed. I know I woke you up more times than you tried to let on. You were so respectful of me it just made me melt every time._

_I couldn’t say anything though._

_The dream always renders me mute, even after I wake up._

_I wanted your comfort, but I also felt like I was… infectious. That’s not the right word, but I can’t really describe it. I couldn’t speak and ask for you like I wanted, but at the same time I needed distance. I needed to carry the latent horror the dream wraps around me as far from you as possible._

_So yeah. I would go and tidy the living room, or do the laundry, the dishes, anything to occupy my brain until it unfroze and let me let you back in._

_It’s always the same, the dream._

_Until I left. Then it got worse. Way, way worse._

_It goes like this._

_I’m in the barn._

_As a child, I loved it there because it was a haven. An excellent place to hide my books and colouring pens and just be in my own company without worrying about being interrupted, mocked or… worse. It was the one quiet place on the whole Homestead where I felt safe._

_Until the day Willa found me._

_In the dream, Willa_ always _finds me._

_My safety is gone in an instant._

_I can see her, peeking around the wall of the little fort I built. There’s a sly smirk on her face and a triumphant fire in her eyes. Willa is relentless and little me knows how far she’ll go and how immovable her will to cause pain is._

**You can’t hide from me**

_She always says the same thing first. Her voice mocks and it cuts me with fresh wounds every time I hear it, while also seeping insidious and inescapable into old wounds that never heal._

**You’re such a little freak**

**Mama knew there was something wrong with you**

**That’s why she left**

**You’ll never be one of us**

_Her voice has so much power over me, even now._

_Then she makes me a promise. She will leave me alone and she won’t tell anyone about my safe place if I’ll do something for her_

_She wants me to entertain her like a dancing bear and I know that her promises are heartless and will evaporate into nothing but I also know I’ll do anything Willa asks, no matter how hopeless it seems._

_Just in case._

_But compliance never mollifies cruelty._

_Even then, at three and a half years old I know that Willa will never stop asking for payment. My rent would always be due in an endless unpayable cycle of debt._

_Yet I can’t help but hope that this time, love will win. If I show her I love her by doing what she wants, maybe she’ll love me back? Maybe, if she loved me back she’d leave like Mama did and I’d be safe again._

_So, I climb into the roof and step out on the beam like she asked, eyes doggedly fixed on the horizon. Inevitably, I get stuck halfway._

**God, you’re such a baby**

_That’s when it happens._

_My foot always slips. I always fall._

_Willa always turns away before I hit the ground._

**Useless**

_I always hear Willa’s last word muttered with complete disinterest but with the effectiveness of a scalpel in my chest._

_I always hear the crack of my broken bones._

_Then I wake up._

_Well. That’s when I_ used _to wake up._

_There’s a second round now._

_I don’t really want to talk about it…_

[CAW CAAAAAW! CAW-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A]

_Alright, Anthony! Jeez Louise!_

_I need tea. Hang on, Nicole._

_...._

_Okay, so I have a cup of tea now. It’s surprisingly hard to boil water on the Hephaestus, let me tell ya. So, apologies for the slurpy sounds throughout this. Not that I’m ever going to let you listen to this._

[CAW!]

_My god, you know I’m as vegan as a vegan can get but if that bloody seagull doesn’t shut the…_

[CAWCAWCAWCAW! CAAAAW! A-A-A-A-CAW!]

_..._

_I threw a shoe at Anti-Anthony._

_It hit him._

_Yup. I maim animals now. I’m an animal maimer._

_I kill fish and maim birds._

_I…_

_...shackle puppies._

_Yeah, I’m the anti-vegan._

_Mattie was right._

_My hypocrisy_ is _the most annoying thing about me._

_Okay._

_Sorry. Um, the dream and how it changed when I… left. Here goes._

_So now, after I fall. The dream resets._

_The barn is the same, but I’m not three and half and I’m not in the rafters. I’m me, now. Grown up Waverly, in the most amazing blazer I’ve ever seen and If I ever see it in a store I am going to buy the shit out of it, even if it reminds me of this dream for the rest of time, because it is that good, Nicole. You would absolutely pull a flour-handed-Waverly if you could see me in it._

[CAW!]

_Anti-Anthony’s letting me know I’ve fallen off the story wagon again, so…_

_…_

_I had to pause it._

_I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop crying but I am going to talk about it._

_I_ have _to talk about it._

_In this version of the dream…_ **_I’m Willa..._ **

_..._

_I’m Willa, and you…you’re in the roof of the barn and I walk in, and your face lights up like I’m nothing less than the personification of Christmas, and I say…_

_I say…_

_…_

_I say ‘you said you would wait!’_

_Your smile fumbles for a second and then you have your adorable drunk face on and you say_

_‘I hafs ta tell ya!’_

_And then…_

_…_

_You step off the beam._

_You fall._

_Hard._

_I turn away just like Willa did._

_I don’t see you hit the ground._

_I_ **_hear_ ** _it._

_..._

**ONE WEEK LATER  
** **Day of** **Pâtisserie week** **Broadcast  
** **Jeremy & Robin’s apartment, Vancouver B.C.  
** **2AM**

Waverly woke, suddenly, heart thundering in her chest. She felt like she was shrouded in thick fog wrapping around her lungs, constricting her airflow and tarring the delicate tissue in smoky fog. Everything was dark, her eyes unseeing. 

“Nicole!”

She knows she’s shouted her name.

She knows she’s no longer trapped in her dream.

But she still can’t speak.

Not when the lights go on all of a sudden. Not when Robin and Jeremy burst in with sleep in their eyes and rumpled Pajamas.

She can’t speak as she rolls off their couch in a panic and stumbles into the bookshelf.

Only when the noise of the pot plant Nicole left behind for Jeremy to care for, shatters through the otherwise silent room does a ragged noise tear from her throat.

She had knocked Bobo the cactus off the shelf.

He fell.

His pot cracked up the side, dirt tumbling over the floor.

The strangely breathless noise was still the only thing she managed for a precious few seconds as she dropped to her knees and tried to push the dirt back in with shaking hands.

“Waverly, I’ve got this. Let me…” Jeremy tries with a quiet voice, but Waverly’s hands are insistent. She won’t let Bobo go.

“Please, Waves...Let me help…”

“Jeremy?” Waverly almost choked on his name. “I can’t fix it.”

“Yeah we can, Waverly. Robin’s got more pots in storage…”

“No.. I can’t… _fix_ it Jeremy… I can’t…”

“Hey. Hey, now. Come on Waves. Come sit with me. That’s it. Come back to the couch.” Jeremy cajoled, managing to get Waverly, still holding desperately onto the pot, into a sitting position next to him.

“I’ll go see what I can find.” Robin said quietly. Waverly looked up just in time to see the pair exchange a knowing look. The refutation of further help died on Waverly’s lips before she could even work out how to utter the words.

Instead, she let her head drop towards Jeremy’s shoulder in defeat.

“She welcomed me home, Jer.” Waverly whispered the only words she could think of. “She called this place our home and two days later… it was all gone. What have I done?” 

Waverly felt herself lose control of her lips first. They wobbled like a foreshock to the main event, which turned out to be crying for a solid ten minutes, in an uncontrollable sobbing mess that over-watered Bobo’s exposed roots and created a wet patch on Jeremy’s shoulder as big as a dinner plate.

“Waverly?” Jeremy asked as the sobs quietened to occasional gulps of oxygen.

“Tell me if this is out of line, but…do you _want_ to be with Nicole?”

Waverly sniffed, raising her head to look her friend in the eye. All she could manage was a nod.

“Then… why aren’t you?”

“It’s better for her if…” 

“Better for her, or easier for you?” 

“Jeremy…”

“Let me put it another way. Why did you stay away?” Jeremy asked, not unkindly despite clearly being in full-on analytical mode. The way he held her hand with a deliberate tightness to anchor her to him made Waverly feel grounded. Somehow, Jeremy had created a safe space among the dirt of Bobo’s pot lying in her lap. Waverly could feel the gears of her mind begin to pick up, her thoughts swirling but the fog seemed to thin with each passing second.

“I… I was angry.”

“Why?”

“Because... she found it all so easy! She was moving on and taking life with both hands and I was jealous and scared and oh god. I...I was never Rose Dewitt-Bukater. I wasn’t even the third extra from the left, sipping tea in the tilted dining hall.” 

"What?" 

"I never could be. I was trapped in cattle class with no hope of getting through the gates. Nicole… she really was the baker, all along. She was always going to be the survivor. I... was always going to drown." 

“I have no idea what’s going on right now.” Jeremy declared with a wry smile. “Is this a Golden Girl’s thing? Because I’m only on season two of my binge watch.”

“No, this is… a self sabotage thing.” Mattie’s words rattled and clanged, a bell of announcement that wouldn’t stop reverberating through her entire being. “I went down with the Titanic and… I’m pulling Nicole down with me. I’m undertow.”

“Undertow?”

“Yes.” Waverly said simply. “I’m undertow. Wynonna told me I was holding her leash but it’s been so long now that even if I let go… I feel like I’ve still pulled her down with me.”

“Bading Bading.” Jeremy quadruple-tapped her forehead. “That is all total horseshit.” He spoke like it was the most obvious conclusion in the world.

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a master mariner now. You literally hauled yourself into a boat, wrestled with the sea, and won. You’re not undertow, Waverly. You’ve always been in control.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, and be patient here, I don’t usually talk in analogy but that seems to be what we’re doing…” Jeremy smiled in response to Waverly’s scrunched up face. “...when the storm set in and you couldn’t see where you were going, you dropped anchor and rode it out. Seems to me that the storm is clearing. If you pick up your compass, where is it pointing to? _Who_ is it pointing to?”

"Jeremy. You're being obscure." 

"No, I'm being observant, and you're being obtuse.”

“I know. It’s very annoying” Waverly took the tissue he offered with a slight petulance. Robin used the lull in conversation to delicately interrupt, pretending he hadn’t been hovering in the kitchen for the past five minutes.

“Can I have the patient?” He asked. With Waverly’s slight nod of assent and thin smile, Robin took Bobo away to re-pot him, giving the pair more space to talk. 

“Jeremy, I’ve never felt in control of my life. I’ve always felt so alone. The only time people were ever nice to me was when I acted the part of the town darling, the ‘nicest person in Purgatory. You know, they gave me a sash? But it… wasn’t real. The smiles were always tight. The conversations were polite but skin deep. I was still a ‘crazy-ass Earp’, as troubled and restless as the tide. I’ve always been outside looking in, but then I was in the tent. I was… I was on the inside all of a sudden. No one knew my background. We all shared the same experience, Jeremy. We’re the only ones who really know what it’s like in there, and...and...ohhhhhhhh...”

It was like an epiphany. 

While she had been talking, a lighter snapped open a flickering flame in the darkness. As the words poured out of her, the flame lit a catherine wheel, which did what catherine wheels do. It spun out of control, firing sparks in all directions. It set fire to the curtains, the carpet, her clothes, her hair. It burned everything it touched to the ground, including the fog Waverly felt like she’d been wrapped in since birth. 

It burned away like it was nothing more than tissue paper. 

It burned away into nothingness.

The clarity of thought was one of the most intense experiences of her life.

She felt free, for the first time since her conscious memories began.

“Talk about click moments…” She mumbled, her head resting in her dirt covered hands. Jeremy’s arm squeezed around her shoulders.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain..”

“But I think I need to. Is that okay? I need to get my thoughts in order.”

“Do we need a whiteboard?” Jeremy chuckled, until he saw Waverly’s eyes light up.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll get a whiteboard!”

Jeremy returned quickly with a small whiteboard from the side of the fridge. He used the sleeve of his pyjamas to rub away his shopping list and proudly passed it to Waverly with an accompanying marker pen. As soon as she held it in her hand, Waverly stopped pacing, the fizzing excitement settled into calm and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face as she began to draw.

“Please tell me you aren’t doing a SWOT analysis of your relationship.” Jeremy joked, pulling a huff of indignancy from Waverly. She clutched the whiteboard quickly to her chest like she’d just been told to give back the shelter puppy she’d been playing with.

“How did you know?” Waverly responded, incensed to be so transparent. 

She paused for a moment, squinting at Jeremy who was nodding at her as if to say ‘bish, I know you too well.’ She sighed, rubbing away the grid she had drawn, which would have been epic, informative and allowed her to craft the beginnings of an actually useful decision tree if only she’d been allowed to continue her train of thought, but, as usual, Jeremy had a point. 

“I’m making this too complicated.” She mumbled. “Always so complicated when it all boils down to this one simple thing.” she began scribbling away again before turning the board around so Jeremy could read the single sentence she had written.

_It was all real_

“It was all real, wasn’t it?” She said in awe. “The whole damn time we were all together, it was all real.”

“Uh, yeah. We were all in the tent together, baking. On camera. They’ve been broadcasting it for a few weeks now, so… It’s definitely real to the rest of Canada.” He said nervously.

“No I mean. The friendships. The camaraderie. You’re my friend, Jeremy, and Robin, and Mattie! You all care about me, don’t you?”

“Of course Waves, why would you even… Oh. You’ve not had that before.”

“Does that sound weird?”

“No! Absolutely not! I haven’t had anyone in a real long time so, yeah I totally get it. You guys, the tent, meeting Robin? It’s changed my life! It was all really, really _real._ ”

“I think I just assumed it was all an illusion, that it would all come crashing down when it stopped and it did, didn’t it?” Waverly thought about all the cut-off conversations, the texts from her new friends she hadn’t responded to. The phone calls she had ignored, assuming they hadn’t really meant to call her. She thought about every missed opportunity to contact Nicole, to tell her she was working through something and hoped to see her on the other side of it. She thought about the real reason she had never found the courage.

“Except _I_ did the crashing. I pulled it all down just so I wouldn’t have to hear her say it.”

“Say what?”

“Nicole loved me.”

“Duh.”

“Nicole really loved me. For realsy reals no take backs forever and a day and infinity more than that.”

“This is _news_ to you?”

Waverly ignored the tone of incredulity in her friend's voice. “She tried to tell me and I wouldn’t let her because I was deathly afraid that as soon as she said it I’d lose her, and I did. Because I walked away instead of saying it back.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Waverly felt the beginnings of a hopeful smile tug at the corners of her mouth. 

“I think it’s time to put my big-girl panties on Jeremy.”

“Okay, not a thing I want to be imagining. Thank you for that lovely image, Waves.” His tone conveyed annoyance but Jeremy had nothing but the softest look of happiness in his eyes for his friend. He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. “What are you going to do?”

Waverly’s smile grew as she spoke into his chest, speaking with a firmness born of complete clarity and universal truth. “I’m going to film Extra Slice.”

“And after?” 

“I’m going to talk to Nicole.”

╭(♡･ㅂ·)و ̑̑

 **Day of** **Pâtisserie week** **Broadcast  
** **‘Extra Slice’ studio, Vancouver  
** **THURSDAY MORNING**

“Well, in a first for Bake Off, viewers were treated to the unfolding of a real life romance this year with the blossoming pairing of Nicole and Waverly. We were all enchanted as the knowing looks and cheeky smirks were confirmed on social media in week four but we really didn’t need it, as both the bakers were hardly subtle about their attraction.”

Sitting to the right of Extra Slice Presenter Jo Brand, Waverly turned behind her to the small monitor showing the edited piece the show would cut to when broadcast in a few days time. They piped in the music, George Michael’s version of ‘The first time ever I saw your face’, so the studio audience got the full experience and so their laughter could be recorded and dubbed over the top.

It was a cut featuring longing looks between the pair, deliberately slowed down to match the temper of the music. Flirty glances darted away in fright, looking down and away quickly, followed by sharp glances up again to try and catch the other out. Waverly was genuinely surprised how many of Nicole’s shy smiles had been caught on camera, and horrified by how many time’s Bulshar had caught her staring appreciatively at Nicole’s ass.

She startled when the music changed from romance to farce with a record scratch. The cut ramped up from slowed down flirty glances to a supercut of Nicole falling over four times and Waverly walking into her own draws, repeatedly cutting her fingers when she was looking at Nicole instead of what she was doing, and burning her arm on a vat of hot oil. The next cut panned out to show Nicole with all five fingers on her left hand covered in blue plasters. The piece finally ended on a wide shot of the flour on Nics butt and Waverly’s hands in her face. The audience roared with laughter, particularly when they noticed Waverly had unconsciously adopted the exact same pose in the studio as she watched. 

“She’s… very distracting, okay!” Waverly spoke through her hands before looking sheepishly at Jo and the other members of the panel. Waverly had felt intense relief when she arrived at the studio and found Sue Perkins already in the make-up chair. She’d obviously never met the other celebrities invited on the show, nor host Jo Brand but she had been made to feel at ease immediately. Something she was grateful for considering how much of her mind was focussed on the period of time immediately _after_ filming. Sue had caught on to her distraction immediately so she had confessed, with fewer tears than she imagined, to what had happened between her and Nicole after Pâtisserie week. Sue had been more than understanding, letting her in on the sequences planned for the show and having a quiet word to Jo when she thought Waverly wasn’t looking.

“Well, social media certainly agrees. Did you know you have a ship name?” Jo asked with apparent innocence.

“Yeah, I invented it.” Waverly replied shyly. “Everyone had it completely wrong to start with. People seemed to think there was something between my sister and Nicole, and I guess, they did fall in love. It’s just a ride-or-die-best-friend kind of love.” 

“Well, we’ve got another video actually, of them ‘falling’ for each other.” Jo smiled, pleased that her comment helped her segue into the next segment. “Take a look at this.” 

Waverly turned once more to watch another segment on the small monitor. ‘The good the bad and the ugly’ played over steely looks between Nicole and Wynonna fired across the Bake Off counter tops. Shots followed of both women turning to each other with hands on hips like they might draw guns at any moment. They had obviously done this enough times over the weeks for the editor to notice as their outfits kept changing. Close ups of frowns, smirks behind each other's backs and then the musicless replay of their fight over the blow torch. 

**_“Turn it off Wynonna, You’re being reckless!”_ **

**_“You know what Nicole? That’s kind of my brand!”_ **

The camera crew had managed to catch close-ups of both their faces, eyes widened in shock even as their pride ensured neither was going to let go of the other first. Then it cut to a wide shot of them frozen while a fire starts on the workstation in the foreground. The soft whoomph sound of the sudden flame closing out the sequence.

Being so distant for the moment Wynonna set fire to Gizmo’s book, Waverly could finally appreciate how funny it was, especially the way it had been cut together like a buddy-cop movie. 

“It’s a tough love kind of thing.” She tried to justify even as she wiped tears of laughter away along with the audience.

“Is that why Nicole arrested Wynonna a few weeks ago?” Jo laughed. 

“No, that’s just because Wynonna was being a dick. Oh, fudgenuggets.” Waverly whispered. “Am I allowed to say ‘dick’ on this show?” 

“Oh, fuck yes.” Sue pipes up with a laugh from across the table. “I mean, bleep yes?”

“Speaking of tough love, it looked like neither Wynonna nor Nicole took the news that you were leaving the tent very well.”

“Ah, no. I think that might be a massive understatement, Jo.” 

For the first time, Waverly saw her own face fill the screen as her exiting baker interview played. She could see the tears glistening in her eyes which surprised her. She had thought at the time that she had hidden her emotions well, but they were there, disappointment writ large across her face. It made her wonder what the rest of the episodes were like. 

She watched words fail her during her interview, only for the silence to be broken by a loud crash, followed by three smaller smashing sounds.

**_“Uh, that’s my sister. And my… my Nicole. I don’t think they really agree with the judges? So, um. They’re having a ‘chat’ about it. They can be a bit overprotective. But I understand the decision. I was expecting it actually. That’s why I was so happy Nicole got the Star Baker award. The last thing I got to do here was pin that badge to her chest. I’m so proud of her. And of Wynonna too…”_ **

Her voice is interrupted by indistinct shouting that’s clearly Wynonna, followed by a series of very much needed bleeps. Waverly winces as another smashing sound rings out from the tent.

**_“...but, ah, obviously not so proud of either of them right now.”_ **

Waverly watched herself bristle, a look of determination setting to her face as she looked towards the tent and the source of the noise, hopping off the stone wall and beginning a purposeful march back towards the tent.

**_“Oh, they are both in so much trouble!”_ **

“Just how much trouble were they in that night.” Jo asked.

“Oh, way, way too much” Waverly was surprised she managed to sound light enough that the audience laughed. “Um, I overreacted actually and I said a lot of things I really, truly regret.”

Waverly pushed a small smile past her lips, but her usual ‘smile and wave’ magic was failing her. The audience had fallen silent.

“I’ve actually been away since I left the tent. So I haven’t seen them in a while. I kind of went into a voluntary seclusion. Like, a writer’s retreat. I had a project to work on and it went really, really well…”

“Is that the book?” Jo inquired, hoping to keep the conversation light.

“Yeah! I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about it yet, but yes. It’s based on my vegan recipe blog where I’ve researched old traditional recipes and given them a bit of modern flair. I just have one chapter left to finish, about heirloom recipes, I need to keep close to my chest for a little bit longer. A key ingredient is missing.” 

“How was that for you? Writing a book that is.” 

“I enjoyed my time away so much and I… I found out a lot about myself and what I want in my future. It’s something I’ve only just realised actually. Something I didn’t even know I was learning by being on the show.”

“That was my next question actually. What was the greatest lesson that being in the Bake Off tent taught you?”

Waverly could feel the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, but she was done with crying. Done with crying about Paul’s brusque assessments of her vegan recipes, done with crying about the past and what people thought of her. Mostly, she was done with crying about what she might have lost. 

Nothing was lost. 

Not yet.

She looked across the too large Extra Slice desk and caught Sue’s eyes. She was smiling at her with such a look of pride in her eyes. It made her think of Nedley and how his eyes would crinkle at the edges when he smiled at her, and Jeremy, with his eyes wide and inquisitive while his mouth said the first thing that came into his head. 

She thought about Fish, Kate and Dolls, who had all spent time with her, just talking and supporting her when things didn’t go just right. They were often the first with a congratulatory hug, and had each sent her messages throughout the broadcasts even though she hadn’t watched any of it.

She thought about Mattie and her silent support throughout her seclusion in Sooke. Utterly non judgemental, who opened her home to Waverly and taught her the value of sitting still.

She thought about Wynonna. Brash, flippant, vulnerable yet brave Wynonna. Who was about to grow her family by one very precious person. 

She thought about Nicole. Solid, reliable, loving, selfless to a fault, wounded Nicole. Who held back her own pain for fear of hurting her. 

“The greatest lesson? Being on Bake Off taught me that I’m stronger than I realise, and… and that true love? It really exists. It is possible to find good people and build a new family with them by your side.”

“Well one of the things we like to do on Extra Slice is offer second chances…” Jo was an expert at deflection, never allowing her interviewees to sink too low. “...so we asked you to have another go at one of the bakes that didn’t go so well for you in the tent. What have you brought us tonight?”

Jo kept talking and Waverly kept replying. She brought out her choux heart eclairs and vaguely registered the “Oohhs’ and ‘Ahhs’ of the panel. If someone were to ask her about it she would say she was functional. She managed to get through the rest of the recording on auto pilot. 

But her mind, and more crucially, her heart, was already timing her long drive to Purgatory.

 **Day of** **Pâtisserie week** **Broadcast  
** **Robin’s car parked outside Nicole’s house, Purgatory  
** **THURSDAY NIGHT**

 **VOICE MEMOS  
** TALKING TO NICOLE AGAIN  
19/09 5:17

. ____________________________________ .

5:17 -0:00

_Nicole…_

_This is my last message to you. At least. I hope it is. I just finished filming Extra Slice and motored up Highway 1 to get to you._

_I have so much to say. So much to apologise for. Words will never be enough._

_So I’m just sitting here in Robin’s car, parked outside your new house - which is very you by the way. Cute but...strong. Tall and handsome. It must seem huge to you compared to your old place. Lots of space to grow and live…. Well. I can certainly see the appeal._

_I can see that you’re home too. There’s a Goat River Triangle cruiser parked in your drive, and a light flickering in the window. Are you watching the show? What time is it on up here anyway?_

_Wait. Where was I?_

_Oh, yeah. On the drive, I realised there was one more thing I needed to say out loud so I could hear it in my own voice before I let another person’s ears hear it too._

_So, here goes…_

_Do you know…_

[scrabble, scrabble, kerthink, skritch, skritch, fwup, fwup, fwup]

_ARGH WHAT THE FUCK! JESUS BEAN!_

_A FUCKING BIRD THE SIZE OF A HANG-GLIDER JUST FLEW IN THE WINDOW, NICOLE!_

_How can the same phone get shit on twice! I can’t even blame Anti-Anthony! Shit. Give me a minute. I gotta wind up the window, wipe off the phone and make sure I didn’t pee too hard._

_…_

_Okay. Okay. Dry seat, that’s a good start, but now I have to tell you this story with my heart rate wedgied up in my rib cage._

_Here goes._

_Do you know Tennyson?_

_Specifically his Arthurian poems. Even more specifically, the Lady of Shallot. I have a confession. People think my blog and Twitter profile are called Earp Shallot’s because I grow and cook with them a lot. I let Wynonna think it’s a meta commentary on my garden and my commitment to my last name, as if being an Earp is something you_ do _rather than something you_ are _._

_They’re both a lie._

_Sometimes I feel like my whole life has been a lie._

_Because_ **_I’m_ ** _the Lady of Shallot._

_I feel like I’m living her life. Always safe, always protected in my tower, cursed to watch the world pass me by as a reflection in my mirror. So I work and I work and I work but I never seem to get anywhere until… I saw you._

_At the regional auditions I felt like I could see nothing but you. Your smile, your dimples, that little worry wrinkle you got when it looked like your eyes were searching me out in the crowd. And oh. Oh, your eyes Nicole. When they did find mine and the_ light _in them… wow. You looked at me like you had seen a miracle and it made me feel… seen, like no one else ever has and I was scared. So damn scared because no one had ever seen me before._

_I’ve worked so hard to keep people from seeing me. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. See the real me, that is, but you did, Nicole. I feel like you saw me and you never flinched away. Not once._

_When I kissed you that day, Shallot's cursed mirror shattered. I escaped my tower and ran to you, my_ gorgeous, _kind and moral Sir Lancelot. You caught me in your arms and held me so tight, but so lightly, like I was delicate and worthy of protection. You brought me out into the world and instead of thanking you I turned away and fulfilled Shallot’s prophecy myself. I scratched my own name in somebody else's boat and floated away from you. From myself._

_Now, your eyes haunt me. I see them every time I close my own. I can see them, trying to understand my anger when we fought. You looked like you were shelving the hurt like catalogued books in a library behind those beautiful, loving, understanding eyes._

_Because you did understand, didn’t you. You knew what I was doing, even if I didn’t._

_You_ knew _, and you let me go because you also knew it was what I needed. You trusted that I would come back to you._

_So here I am._

_I’ve sailed home. To you._

You _are my home, Nicole._

_Please still be waiting?_

_Please._   
  
  


_I don’t know why I’m still sitting in the car._

_Come on Earp. Go and knock on the door…_

_Bobo is silently judging me. He’s got a cute new pot I can’t wait to show you._

_Okay._

  
  


_Okay, I’m going. I’m…_

  
  


[kerchick]

  
  


_I’m outside the car. I did it!_

  
  


[kerthunk]

  
  


_Now what?_   
  


[pop, pop, pop, pop, pop]

  
  


_Bobo thinks the ‘I’m Sorry’ balloons were a bit much even though I swear they were his idea in the first place._

_Here I go, Nicole._

_I’m gonna go knock on your door now._

_Please don’t slam the door in my face m’kay?  
  
_

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡  
  


Waverly turned off her phone and crossed the road.

The pale blue weatherboards seemed to draw her nearer, more so than the slow tread of her weary feet. 

In seconds she had walked up the short path, ascended the few steps to the doorway, and without regret, without hesitation and full of confidence, Waverly Earp knocked with earnestness on Nicole Haught’s brand new front door.

There was no time for doubt to creep in, no time to rehearse what she was going to say. 

Nicole opened the door almost immediately.

“Waverly?”

She wasn’t prepared for this.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Nicole’s actual face shrinking in surprise at the sight of her on the doorstep. Nothing could have prepared her for how tremulous and weak the vibration of her own name in Nicole’s mouth sounded, like the sound waves barely had enough energy to travel into her ears. All at once, Waverly was struck by how different Nicole looked. Thinner, her clothes not quite fitting. Her hair a little longer, limply brushing her shoulders. Her eyes, wide with surprise, seemed duller for a fraction of a second.

But then they sparked, like fire suddenly taking hold of dry kindling. It wasn’t what Waverly was used to seeing in their depths. It wasn’t passion driving the flame. It wasn’t even anger, at least, not yet. It was fear. Fear and then sadness, as their normally rich brown depths became shiny with unshed tears.

“What…? Why…? How are you here?” Nicole asked with those eyes gently flickering. ‘Fight or flight’, ‘fight or flight?’ they may as well have been screaming in semaphore. 

Waverly suddenly found herself speechless. 

All the words she thought she might say evaporated to nothing but the deep abiding knowledge that there wasn’t a single thing she could say to make any of this right. Nothing could excuse her behaviour. Nothing could forgive the hurt she saw deep in Nicole’s eyes.

Waverly felt a ‘thing’ snap in her brain. It felt physical, the need to cover up her realisation, to fill the silence with words, even if they weren’t the ones she rehearsed.

“You abandoned Bobo!” She accused, holding out the small plant she had stolen back from Jeremy.

Nicole looked as surprised as Waverly felt by the explosion.

“Yeah?” Nicole laughed without mirth. “Well, you abandoned me.”

Waverly felt like she’d been stabbed, run through with a righteous sword of truth. Like the pommel was hanging out of her gut, still wobbling with the force of Nicole’s thrust.

“You never called.” Another sword joined the first.

“You never wrote.” The third thrust clean through her, making Waverly stumble slightly backwards.

“You _left_ me.” A fourth and final word sword completed the blow. Had her spine been severed? Waverly couldn’t feel her legs. She couldn’t feel anything actually. Other than the slowing throb of her heart as she watched the light in Nicole’s eyes die away.

Then, the door closed in her face.

Σ>\---♡→ ╰(*___*)╯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst still written in crayon but I went and bought those devastatingly large Crayola’s for tiny hands. 
> 
> (Other brands of waxy colouring tools are available).


	11. I Would Walk Five Hundred Mille Feuilles (by The Profiteroles)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wynaught deal with being on Bake Off without Waverly and we finally, on the third try, find out what happens to our loveable idiots standing on opposite sides of the same door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on B*A*K*E*O*F*F (by Dolly Varden Cake)  
> In Chapter 9, we endured the great Wayhaught pointless argument that saw Waverly take her leave, of both the Bake Off tent and Nicole. During the broadcast of that episode, weeks later, we discovered Waverly had returned and was standing on Nicole’s doorstep in Purgatory.
> 
> In Chapter 10, we took a little detour and followed Waverly through the week between Chapters 8 and 9 (between the broadcast of Bake Off weeks 7 and 8) to find out what led her to finally realise what she really wants, and head home to purgatory.
> 
> So here we are, at Chapter 11, where we’ll finally find out what happens next for our two idiots standing on opposite sides of the same door. But first, we need to check in with the past, and find out how Nicole and Wynonna coped with filming the semi-final of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off.
> 
> Also, I know the song is called ‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’ but the baking pun isn’t as funny.
> 
> Additional tags:  
> Features 'Lesbian Limited Edition' Star Trek reference that is probably terribly niche but I thought was fucking funny...  
> Crofte stream is the Earp Homestead of the Gardner Estate: Surprisingly roomy.

“

 _When I come home, well I know I'm gonna be  
_ _I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you  
_ _And if I grow-old, well I know I'm gonna be  
_ _I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you  
_ _But I would walk 500 miles  
_ _And I would walk 500 more  
_ _Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles  
_ _To fall down at your door_

“

**SWEET DOUGH  
** **(Bake Off Semi Final)**

  
┌iii┐ヽ(°□° )ノ

**EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Fast pan of the Bake Off tent exterior, drooping from the tree line which inexplicably creates an atmosphere of drama.

**MEL  
** (Voiceover)  
_ This week, on the Great British-Columbia Bake Off… _

**CUT. INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Quick cuts of nervous bakers making mistake after mistake. Nedley cuts his hand with a palette knife. Nicole nearly drops an entire tray of fruity buns. Wynonna smugly drops a small test piece of dough into a vat of oil but recoils as it splashes back at her. Jeremy is trying not to gesture towards his fruity Belgian buns but still manages to look like an awkward virgin faced with their first pair of breasts.   


**MEL  
** (Voiceover continues...)  
_ Our four final bakers need to keep abreast of Sweet Dough week. _

**JEREMY  
** (Placing cherries on his iced buns)  
Careful...careful… don’t fondle your buns Jeremy...

**NICOLE  
** (rubbing a finger over her buns cracked surfaces)  
Bolo Bao are  _ supposed _ to look like they need Lansinoh, I swear.

**NEDLEY  
** (Forlorn)  
I chose Papaya for a reason, you know. I didn’t want them to look like…

**WYNONNA  
** (Butting in from side of shot)  
Boobs?

**NEDLEY  
** Well… yeah.

**WYNONNA  
** Hate to break it ya grandad, but your Tutti Frutti Randy Buns look like double-d filled itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow-polka-dot Bikinis.

**NEDLEY  
** (Pausing before swearing in agreement)  
[Bleep]

**MEL  
** (Voiceover continues...)  
_ But it’s the semi finals... _

**WYNONNA  
** Why is this SO MOTHER [BLEEPING] HARD!?

**MEL  
** (Voiceover continues...)  
...and nothing less than the best will get a pass mark from the judges.

**CUT.  
** Paul stalks around the tent like a pretend alpha male keeping watch over his dominion. He visits each of the bakers in turn, Nicole and Nedley raise their eyebrows at each other while he passes behind them. Jeremy completely stops what he’s doing like a possum caught in headlights until Paul moves away. Wynonna poses in an overly flirty manner and winks at him as he passes. 

**NICOLE  
** (Whispering from the sidelines.)  
Not gonna happen Earp.

**CUT.  
** Trees line the banks of the Crofte stream where Wynonna is being interviewed for a post baking sequence.

**WYNONNA  
** She told me it would happen, and it happened so… 

Wynonna shrugs off her shirt and toes off her boots. She turns and takes off towards the nearby stream. Her body is blurred in post production but it is clear she jumps in completely naked.

Argh it’s so cold! 

**NICOLE  
** (Shouting off camera)  
Wynonna! 

Nicole appears suddenly in shot, staggering in a half jump, half run towards the stream, pulling her shoes off as she goes. She dives in after Wynonna without hesitation.

**CUT.  
** A grey looking Nedley sits on the stone overbridge of the stream with his arms folded tightly against his chest.

**NEDLEY  
** (Sniffing indignantly)  
I’m still not looking at their asses.

Roll ‘Great British-Columbia Bake Off’ opening credits.  


┌iii┐ ヽ(°□° )ノ  


**SUMMER  
** **Crofte Castle Boat Shed  
** **FRIDAY**

“Baby? What’s all this?” Waverly gestured around the boat shed on the edge of the Crofte Estate Boundary, her hand taking in the hastily erected fairy lights and picnic rug spread across the floor of the quaint wooden building. 

“Can’t a woman treat her girlfriend to a romantic evening in as near as a private wooden cabin as you can get when filming a nationally revered television show?” Nicole smirked at Waverly’s mildly annoyed frown.

“Of course she can. You know hanging with my lady is my jam...” Waverly stepped into Nicole’s offered arms, running her hands up until they hit the rolls of her cuffed shirt, then returned them back down, taking her hands gently and swinging them slightly. “...but you already took me ice skating and hiking this week. You don’t have to entertain me with super thoughtful and romantic dates  _ every  _ day you know.”

“Maybe not every day but how about  _ most _ days?” Nicole replied with a smirk.

“How about  _ some _ days so I get a chance to plan a day for us?”

“Oh, I like the sound of that. What would we do?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m not going to reveal my secret ideas.”

“Aww, not even a hint?”

“Okay, maybe a teeny tiny hint. I love that you brought me here, Nic ‘cos I’ve always wanted to go sailing.”

“I know.” Nicole replied simply.

“You know? How?” 

“Yeah, well, you never actually  _ said _ but I listened to you talk Mattie’s ear off about her sloop and your face makes this truly adorable, absolutely rapt expression when you’re really into a subject and are, like, taking in  _ all _ the facts, just....every tiny thing you can about it.”

“See. I told you you were a listener.”

“I’m always listening baby. Like right now, I’m listening to your breath go shallow. Precursor to heart rate rising…” Nicole leaned in, capturing Waverly’s lips with her own. With Waverly’s hands immediately finding purchase in her hair, the pair inched down until they were lying uncaring amongst the remains of their picnic. 

“Nicole…we’re going to ruin the food.”

“No baby. The only thing getting ruined tonight, is me and you.” 

“But didn’t you have something to tell me?”

“Yeah, but it can wait. I can wait…” Nicole shivered for some reason, feeling a chill down her spine that transferred into a physical shudder.

“Are you cold baby?” Waverly asked.

Nicole grinned into her girlfriend's neck. “Hey, that’s my line.”

_ Wait. Where did the boat shed go? _

_ Why am I wearing this? _

“Waverly?”

_ When did you get so… heavy?  _

_ Why am I so…  _

Cold.

Nicole was cold. 

Had been since Waverly left. 

_ Waverly… left. _

_ That’s right.  _

_ Waverly left and I’m cold.  _

_ Oh.  _

_ I was sleeping.  _

_ Of course… _

_ I never made it to the picnic.   
  
_

We  _ never made it...  
  
_

Not quite cognisant of her surroundings, all Nicole could tell was that the sheets and duvet were pushed down around her lap but that wasn’t why she felt so weirdly chilled… in her face? 

_ Why is my  _ face _ cold?  _

_ Why is it… sore?  _

_ Why am I being squished into the mattress?  _

_ What is going..? _

“What the ever living FUCK, WYNONNA!” Nicole tried to lean away in horror, her heart beating a mile a minute on waking to discover a leather-clad Wynonna straddling her in her own bed. Not only straddling her, but holding down her hands with her knees and thrusting an antique Colt Buntline special directly up her left nostril. 

The harsh, cold metal was covered in flakes of orange rust that almost made the ancient revolver look like it was branded with mystic runes, and made Nicole feel like she could taste blood and steel in the back of her throat. The whole thing would’ve been more threatening if Wynonna hadn’t taken the time to hastily apply a scented cartoon pineapple sticker to the barrel. 

Rather than fear, Nicole only felt a surge of annoyance by the sudden arrival of an unwelcome Earp in her apartment. Nicole bucked, to get her hands free or shift Wynonna off her, whichever came first.

“Did you just…  _ grind _ up into me Haught?” Wynonna asked, pushing the tip of the gun just that little bit further in.

“You wish, Earpty dumpty, AND OW!”

“What’s the situation? What did you do to Waverly?” Wynonna let the insult lie and got straight to the point, somehow adding more pressure to the gun while her eyes bled into full (cold) mode.

“Frankly, Wynonna, the ‘situation’ is  _ balls,  _ and I didn’t  _ do _ anything. 

“Clearly.”

“We just… fought. She stormed out before I could explain. I… was going to tell her everything that night. I’d planned a romantic date. I…”

“Well, clearly something went wrong. She’s not answering my texts or my calls. She never does that. She never ignores me. So, I’m gonna ask one more goddamn time…”

“You won’t shoot me Wynonna.”

As if to disprove her, Wynonna cocked the hammer and snarled a ‘try me’ expression that was all hooded eyes and lip curl. “Do you know what happens when a bullet rips through nasal tissue Nicole?”

“Yes.” Nicole replied defiantly. “It ain’t pretty, and much like our fight, it ends in a giant mess I have no idea how to fix.”

Wynonna sighed dramatically, pulling the gun out of Nicole’s nose as she sat up. “You know, I had this whole speech made up involving doughnut mixture metaphors but if you  _ have _ to go and ruin my moment.” 

Nicole tried to lift her hand to rub her now empty nostril but Wynonna kept her pinned.

“What happened? And trust me when I say you better not hold anything back or I might just let ‘fly-by-the-seat-of-her-panties-Wynonna’ have control back. Peacemaker here only works for her, you know?” She twirled the gun on her finger by it’s guard and nearly dropped the stupid thing on Nicole’s face.

Nicole sighed, resigned to her fate. She recounted the whole sorry episode with Wynonna still perched on her crotch. To her credit, Wynonna sat and listened until Nicole couldn’t talk about it anymore, despite her feelings on each aspect of the argument being made patently clear by the variety of disapproving facial expressions that fell over her face. They were not too dissimilar to her ‘I-will-goddamn-shoot-you-in-the-nose-if-you’ve-hurt-Waverly’ face. 

Nicole hated it, but she pressed on regardless, the truth pouring from her like a melting baked Alaska.

“Making a difference in a small town like Purgatory is all I ever really wanted. Why wasn’t she happy for me Wynonna? Why did it bother her so much that I might want to be near her? It's not like I was expecting her to move in with me! I... just wanted…” 

“Fucking hell.” Wynonna waved the gun around in frustration. Nicole couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe getting out of that place is all  _ she _ ever wanted? God, You’ve known her for two months Haught! I get she’s the fudge to your sundae but did you ever actually  _ talk _ to her? Did you ever tell her  _ why  _ you wanted to move here?” 

“No... I was going to. On the date. I had it all planned. Like, it was a surprise…”

Wynonna scoffed and Nicole knew she had every right to.

“I know. I know. I keep dreaming about it. About doing it right, but… it’s too late...” 

_ Oh, don’t you dare start crying. Not now. Not in front of… the baby… yeah. No crying in front of babies…  _

“...fuck. I broke it and I don’t know what to do. Wynonna? What do I do?” 

Wynonna seemed to calm further in the face of Nicole’s hastily swallowed emotions.

“Let her cool off. She’ll come home when she’s ready, and we’ll see her next week no matter who goes through to the final. Everyone has to come back for the finale party. It’s in the contracts and we all know how you both love to follow the fucking rules.” 

“So… I just wait? Until she’s ready to talk?”

“Yeah.” Wynonna shrugged her shoulders. “But I’d feel better if I knew she was safe. Have you tried texting her?”

“Let me go so I can try again?” Wynonna frowned but made a show of lifting her knees, one at a time to let Nicole's arms out. Before Wynonna could react, Nicole had Peacemaker out of her hand, checking the barrel and confirming her suspicion that there were no bullets.

Making an oof noise while she twisted towards her phone, she bucked back up into Wynonna. “Will you get off so I can…”

“Please. It takes a lot more effort than that to get me off Haught.”

“Sure, Aphrodite.”

“That was one time, and the bronco machine was faulty. Much more vibration than I’m used to.”

Nicole ignored Wynonna as she checked her phone. No new messages, texts or notifications from Waverly. She opened the camera app, snapped a picture of Wynonna and the gun, sending it in hope that the stupid message she put with it about being accosted in her own home might prompt some kind of response. Even an angry one would do. At least they would both know she was okay.

Almost immediately, Wynonna’s phone rang loud and clear into Nicole’s room. Instead of moving off Nicole’s lap, Wynonna reached into the back of her pants and answered.

“Waverly!? Are you dead? Because you’d better be after ignoring us for a FUCKIN’ WEEK, BABY GIRL!”

Wynonna fell silent for a time as she listened. Nicole froze, almost in fright, as another series of complicated expressions passed over Wynonna’s face. She felt almost like it could be a whole university course; Forensic analysis of Wynonna Earp body language 101. The micro movements of Wynonna’s cheeks and lips, the way she couldn’t help but flick her eyes to Nicole before consciously pulling them away, the frown that only deepened as her shoulders subtly hunched. But most telling of all, the way her other arm snaked around her baby belly, hugging tight and protective, told Nicole everything about their conversation without her having to hear the words.

Waverly wasn’t coming back.

“Well, where is this ‘writer’s retreat’? Mattie’s? You went to SOOKE! No, I just thought you had better taste than that.”

Nicole clocked out of the remainder of the conversation as a new wave of cold passed over her. Waverly didn’t want to talk to her. This wasn’t an everyday first fight. This didn’t seem like something she could fix. The coldness passed through her skin and settled inside her, wrapping tight, icy tendrils around her heart that splintered into the muscle as it beat.

“Fuckin hell, Haught. No wonder you got stabbed. You time out more often than Chuck Daly.”

Coming back to herself, Nicole blinked at Wynonna who was back leaning over her, the call apparently finished.

“Do you mean zone out? You Earps really don’t do sports, do you?” Nicole started to feel short of breath and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the overwhelming feeling of pain settling around her heart or the weight of Wynonna pressing uncomfortably into her bladder.

Blowing a tentacle of Wynonna’s hair away from her face, Nicole tried to push her friend up and out of the way. “How’re you even leaning over me like that? Where did you put the baby? Behind a lung or something?

“Magic.” Wynonna answered as she sat up but resolutely refused to move from Nicole’s lap. “Also, who knew Sears sold leather maternity pants?” She flicked her thumbs into a surprisingly well-hidden elasticated waistband. “Me. I knew that.” she declared.

“Well, great but can you move your leathery heiny so I can go pee? Please?”

“Ohmygod…” Wynonna startled, sliding back from Nicole’s lap to her blanket covered knees.

“What? What is...?” Nicole spoke with trepidation but Wynonna bypassed her caution circuit, grabbing Nicole’s hand and moving it until she was high-fiving Wynonna’s belly bump. And then she felt it. A firm, deliberate punch coming from inside Wynonna’s gut.

“Woah!” Nicole sat up with a start, as Wynonna lifted her shirt away, making room for both sets of hands to softly cradle her belly just in time for a flurry of punches and kicks to erupt beneath their hands.

“Holy shit! My kid knows Kung-Fu!” Wynonna’s exclamation soon fell into awed silence and they both felt the results of an elaborately choreographed in-utero stunt fight. At points, Wynonna grabbed Nicole’s hand and moved it around her belly to catch a movement as the baby squirmed.

“Wow…” Wynonna’s awed voice seemed to give Nicole permission to smile. Until Wynonna spoke her name, and it stuttered and fell away into nothing.

“Waverly missed this.”

Nicole pulled back her hand, suddenly feeling like an intruder. Wynonna must’ve seen something in her face because her eyes took on that now rather infuriating (unconditional) expression again.

“Waverly’s safe. She said she just wants space. Like I said. She’ll be back.”

But Nicole remained unconvinced by the confidence in Wynonna’s eyes and the frown didn’t lift from her face. Everything felt so uncertain. But there were two definite things on the horizon for Nicole to cling to. First, she was moving to Purgatory. Second, Wynonna was going to have her baby. Waverly would have to return before that happened.

She could wait. 

She could be patient as air. 

What choice did she have?

“Come on. We gotta get some practice in before hitting the ferry tonight.” Wynonna reminded her, finally sliding off the bed with a pregnant-lady ‘oof’ noise.

“Do we now? I hardly think  _ you _ need any practice. You were born for Sweet Dough week”

“True. But they didn’t even bother to set a doughnut based challenge. I’m gonna suck just as hard as I have every other week.”

“Okay, let’s make a bet.” 

“Really Haughtshit? That ended very badly for you last time you took on an Earp.”

Unperturbed, Nicole continued. “Wynonna, I bet that you do so well, that you get a Hollywood handshake this week." 

Wynonna snorted. "Pffft, that’s as likely to happen as Doc shaving off his overcompensating moustache. Tell ya what, If I  _ do _ get a Hollywood handshake this week I will damn well skinny dip in the Crofte stream live on camera.”

“Deal! No take backs!” Nicole offered her hand for Wynonna to shake but instead her friend slapped it away in a half-hearted high-five. 

“Aren’t you a little overeager to see as much of my ass as I saw of your haught-crotch last week?”

“Ew…”

“I knew this ass would turn you one day.”

“Ew, three-thousand ‘Nonna.”

“See, all I’m hearing is ‘I Love you Nonna. So much I’m gonna make you pancakes, waffles and poached eggs on french toast for breakfast.’” 

“Yeah well….” Nicole crossed her arms in mock petulance as Wynonna smirked at her from the doorway. It was impossible to tell if she was serious or not.“...is that what you want?”

“It’s what Baby Bean wants, Nicole. You  _ do _ love us, right?”

“Of course.” Nicole replied without thinking. Being the god's honest truth, Nicole didn’t need to think about the answer. Wynonna, however, paused in her turn towards the kitchen, obviously catching the tone of sincerity in the immediacy of her answer. 

“Love you too Narc.” Wynonna whispered back softly. “Now get out here and feed me, Seymour.”

Stunned, Nicole took a few seconds to throw back the covers as the realisation settled over her, that Wynonna had told her she loved her.

And Waverly never had.  
  


(。-人-。)  
  


**Bake Off Tent, Gardner Estate  
** **SATURDAY**

“Put it on Haught.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah? Well, we don’t deserve to put up with your mopey ass. Suck it up Haught.”

Wynonna thrust Nedley’s metal sheriffs star into Nicole’s hand. The points pressed painfully into her skin just like they had last week, when she had ripped it from her apron after the judgements had sent Waverly home instead of her.

“No.”

“ _ Do _ it.”

“Fuck off, Wynonna!”

“I have a blow torch and I am not afraid to use it.”

“I KNOW!”

“Do we have to separate you two again?” Sue called out from the front of the tent, not unkindly but with enough admonishment that the pair stopped bickering and returned to their workstations. “Nicole? Director says to put it on for continuity please.” 

Nicole could practically hear Wynonna’s smugness creeping all over her face.

“ _ Fine”  _ she whisper-hissed at her friend. Waiting for Wynonna to turn away, Nicole pinned the star to her chest, upside down. Normally light, the badge instead felt heavy, dragging down the front of her apron with tempered titanium and bronze so that it almost folded in on itself, and Nicole could only see the pin, stabbing the apron material from behind.

Nicole still felt out of place and undeserving of her spot in the semi-final, and yet so far, sweet dough had been a triumph for everyone in the tent. Jeremy had made perfect Belgian buns which meant they had, as feared, looked breast-like. Wynonna had turned out exquisite ‘whiskey soaked and reckless’ sticky buns and Nedley’s tutti-frutti buns had earned him the nickname Papaya Nedley for the entirety of the days filming. Even Nicole’s Bolo Bao pineapple buns had wowed the judges.

So far, the semi-finalists were neck and neck. Now they awaited the director’s call for the judges and presenters to walk to their mark and begin introducing the technical challenge. A delay with some sort of wardrobe malfunction on Paul’s shirt meant the bakers had to sit and stew for a few minutes more, while the gingham cloth that covered their workstations mocked them with its secret knowledge of what lay beneath.

Taking a peek at Wynonna at the station next to her, Nicole could see her incorrigible friend barely stopping her finger from trying to lift the cloth. She could hear Wynonna whispering. “ _ Please be doughnuts, please be doughnuts, please be doughnuts.” _

“Aaaaand set! Cue walk on… action!” The distant, bodiless voice of the director called out from somewhere unseen and four pairs of eyes immediately swung to the front of the tent.

“Hello again bakers. I know we keep reminding you even though we don’t have to, that it’s the semi finals. The judges are looking for absolute perfection from you today, because as we saw last week, you’re all so good, decisions are coming down to very  _ minor _ quibbles with your bakes.” Both Sue and Mel turned to glare at the judges. Mary nodded her head, almost in resignation. Paul stared forward so blankly, Nicole wondered if the director had just rolled in his waxwork instead of bothering with the man himself.

“So of course they’ve set for you a technical challenge that could go wrong at any stage and given you hardly any time to complete it in.” Mel’s bubbly voice belied the sheer terror her words confirmed for the nervous bakers.

“Indeed.” Sue took up the introduction. “So today, for your Sweet Dough Technical Challenge, the judges would like you to make a dozen doughnuts…”

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!” Wynonna threw her arms in the air and did a little dance around her station. Then, she took off and planted a kiss on Mel, Sue, Paul and Mary’s cheeks before disappearing behind Bulshar to plant one on the crew as well. The tent descended into giggles, with even Nedley barking out a loud laugh as Wynonna high-fived her baby bump.

“Boom shakalaka!”

While Sue hid her amusement behind her hand, and even Paul Hollywood cracked the tiniest of smiles, Mel elaborated on exactly what the technical would entail. “We want to see six perfect doughnut fingers split with traditional crème mousseline and jam and six round doughnuts, holed and covered with chocolate glaze and colourful sprinkles.”

“Don’t stint on the decoration, mind.” Sue warned. “We want to see as many sprinkles as the scattering of grey through the magnificent mane that wears Paul Hollywood as a suit.”

“On your marks…”

“Get set!”

“BAAAAKE” Shouted Wynonna in triumph, flashing Nicole a feral grin before whipping off the gingham cloth with a flourish worthy of a nineteenth century stage magician. 

Wynonna was clearly in her element. This was the technical challenge she was born for. She was working her dough before Nicole had even finished measuring her ingredients.  
  


(๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و  
  


Nicole sat at the very edge of her stool as the judges re-entered the tent to blind test the bakes in front of them. From her perspective, she could see the photos turned away from the judges, including the photo of herself squinting in the sun on week one that she had begged the producers to change more than once. Which was how she knew her terrible doughnuts would be judged first.

“Let’s start with these shall we?” Paul started with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “Oh dear. These have suffered from varying temperatures in the fryer. Either that or someone just wasn’t paying any attention. Hmmm. That being said, they do taste alright. Texure’s fine. They just look terrible. Let’s move on to these…” 

Nicole squeezed Jeremy’s hand after he hastily grabbed hers for support behind their backs. “These are dry. The icing and sprinkles are fine and they are all fairly uniform, but the dough has been overworked.”

“Yes…” Mary agreed with Paul’s assessment of Jeremy’s doughnuts. “The filled ones are better, however it’s hard to go wrong with crème mousseline and jam isn’t it.”

“But that’s about all we can say about them.” Paul looked up at each of the bakers, searching for the guiltiest looking face to admonish. “Disappointing.”

“Next we have…” Mary picked up one of Nedley’s round doughnuts. The over sprinkled icing began to slough off the top and plopped heavily onto the plate with a splat.

“Oh dear. This one is… I’m not sure quite how to describe it.” Paul smirked through his frown, apparently amused by the shape of the blob of chocolate. “It looks like a Tribble.”

“ _ Is that a lesbian thing? _ ” Wynonna leaned into Nicole’s side and whispered in her ear. The choking sound she made at the unexpected comment was clearly audible across the room as both Mary and Paul’s eyes found hers at the same moment.

“ _ Please stop talking! _ ” Nicole replied out the side of her mouth.

“ _ What? Nedley’s doughnuts look like they’re from the 1978 edition of the ‘Joy of Sex’! _ ”

Paul cleared his throat to continue.

“We gave you coloured sprinkles, but somehow this looks like a brown blob of badly made Star Trek prop. Something obviously went wrong there, but at least we have six presentable iced finger doughnuts. Just not the kind we asked for.”

“Not uniform either.” Mary added.

Finally, the judges moved to the last set on the table.

“Now these. These look much more like it.” Mary began as Paul cut samples for them to indulge in. “They look perfectly uniform, the crème has been expertly piped and each sprinkle looks like it was hand placed to give a very pleasing and appetising finish.”

Paul, however, didn’t say anything. He just quietly chewed his sample. Then, he reached for the second without a single word passing his lips. Time slowed as the seconds ticked by, each building on the next into a thick wall of silence caused by Paul’s slowly chewing jaw.

_ Oh no. He’s going to spit it out. Oh shit, oh shit! It’s only cake Wynonna! It’s only… doughnuts. Oh shit! _

Nicole knew that this moment wasn’t ‘just cake’ to Wynonna. Doughnuts were her everything, and were the thing that gave her the confidence to apply for the show in the first place. Wynonna had told her, more than once, that she knew she could bake because she believed in her doughnuts, just like Waverly believed in her vegan recipes. If Paul rejected them now, Nicole knew with the same certainty that told her how much she loved the younger Earp, that the elder Earp would be devastated beyond words by the rejection.

Paul’s silence continued as he looked at the floor for an extended period. When he finally looked up again, his eyes held an expression no one in the tent had ever seen before. 

It was admiration. He even had a tear in his eye.

_ What the fuck? _

“These... are extraordinary. Who baked these?

“Paul, that kind of defeats the purpose of the blind judging.” Sue butted in while surreptitiously leaning over to pilfer a whole doughnut from the tray.

“I don’t care.” Paul said simply. “These are by far and away the best doughnuts I have ever eaten.”

“I have to say, I agree.” Mary interjected. “I’m glad we tried these last because Paul is right. They’d place first in any competition in the world. So, who is responsible for improving on Pauls’s recipe?” Mary finished with a cheeky glint in her eye.

“Um…” Wynonna started but didn’t actually raise her hand, so Nicole shoulder barged her off her stool, forcing her to stand. 

“...that would be me? I guess?” Doubt fluttered over her face like an indecisive butterfly.

Paul immediately walked forward and shook Wynonna’s hand.

_ Oh shit. SHE DID IT! _

“That’s the first handshake I’ve ever given for a technical and it is well deserved. These are exquisite Wynonna.”

“Oh, fuck off Paul…” Wynonna tried to dismiss him but he held steadfastly to her hand.

“No. Be proud of these Wynonna. They are the best doughnuts I have ever eaten. They are better than my own. Well done.” Paul returned to his spot next to Mary and began their quiet deliberations to decide who came a very far behind second.

Stunned, Wynonna backed up to her stool and sat down, oblivious to the proud smiles of her friends around her.

“Well… shit?” Wynonna muttered under breath.

“Told you.” Nicole smugly whispered back. “You did brilliantly. Own it.”

“Oh, I’ll own it all right…”

“What do you…” But before Nicole could remember why Wynonna should be upset at winning a Hollywood Handshake, she was raising her hand to claim last place in the semi-final technical challenge.  
  


٩(◕‿◕。)۶ ( ◕` _ ◕)/  
  


_ Was that whole Tribble episode just an allegory for Captain Kirk’s sexual voraciousness. I mean, sixties Star Trek was quite progressive for its time, but still… _

“How are you holding up?” Nedley’s calm, supportive voice interrupted Nicole’s daydream as she waited outside the tent for her post technical interview.

“Oh, fine, fine. Baking was a bit rough today. I’m not sure what went wrong really.”

“Well now. We both know that’s not a true and accurate representation of the facts.”

“Really?”

“Something’s happened hasn’t it, and now you can’t concentrate on what you’re doing”

Nicole froze, her stiff body telling Nedley the truth even as her mind failed to sift through its stock of fake small-talk pat answers she could’ve offered to end his train of questioning. Not that she believed for a moment that the former Sheriff would fall for any of it.

“Waverly… left, Nedley.”

“Left the tent?” She could see the wheels turning with his question, wanting her to clarify the lost statement she breathed out into the universe for the first time. 

“It’s my fault.”

“It’s your fault that the judges made that decision? Not everything is your fault Nicole, no matter how much it feels that way.”

“I just… miss her.” Nicole couldn’t find enough will or words to explain any further.

“Hmmm.”

It was a simple exclamation, but it caused tears to well in her eyes. Nicole spoke to hold back their steady march towards falling down her face like cartoon Lemmings off a retro gaming cliff.

“I want to make something good of my life, Nedley and I really believe I can start doing that by moving to the Goat River Triangle, after all of… this…” Nicole gestured around the estate grounds, letting her hand fall away as it reached the walls of the Bake Off tent.

“You will.” Nedley replied with a confidence Nicole couldn't believe in. 

“How do you know?” 

“Because, now I know I haven’t known you all that long but, you’re like a daughter to me.” Nedley paused, his quiet tone somehow adding the weight of truth to his words. He was soft, yet gravelly. Stoic yet exuding a warmth Nicole had never felt before. Her useless Lemming tears fell anyway as she realised she had already accepted his words into her heart as truth. 

“I know you’ll be just fine because you have me, Jeremy, and although God may strike me down where I stand for saying this out loud, you have Wynonna too. While I know she might not be the Earp you were hoping for, she might just be the Earp we all deserve.”

Nicole looked over to her friend in the distance, a smile helplessly forming at Wynonna animatedly throwing her arms around, miming getting a handshake from Paul for the Bulshar crew filming her post judgement interview. 

Nicole’s smile stuttered and fell away just as quickly as it formed. 

Wynonna was Waverly’s sister. If Waverly truly had left her, Nicole could never begrudge her choice, but eventually it would mean she’d lose Wynonna too. Blood was thicker than water after all, and stronger than air, too.

“The universe seems set on showing me glimpses of what other people have. An amazing parent, lasting friendships, a love like nothing I have ever experienced, but… it always goes away. The universe shows and tells and then… it just takes and takes and takes and I’m just so… 

_ Alone... _

_ Empty... _

_ Lonely... _

“...tired.” She finally finished the sentence

Nicole refused to look at Nedley, instead becoming overly fascinated with the change in the Bulshar crew as they adjusted the angle of their camera to film a second take of an eager Wynonna’s post Technical interview.

“Is that how you see the world Nicole?” Nedley finally asked, his arms folding in time with the furrow of his brow. “As a universe intent on taking from you?”

“No. I think the universe is trying to break me.” Nicole could see his frown deepening out of the corner of her eye. “I think it’s winning.” She whispered, a terrifying confession she could hardly believe she had allowed to escape from her mind's-eye out into the world. There was just something about the calm, steady, almost fatherly presence of Randy Nedley that seemed to allow her fears to be spoken out loud in a bubble of gravelly, moustachioed safety.

Nedley was silent for a beat of Nicole’s aching heart, and then for a few more after that as he thought about Nicole’s words. She was just about to speak again, to brightly push away the heaviness that had fallen between them when he quietly commanded her silence and her attention by speaking her name.

“Nicole. The universe is not vengeful. It carries no personal vendettas or hatred towards individuals. These are human emotions. Ones we don’t want to have to deal with ourselves so we push them onto figments of our imagination, to gods and monsters, so they’re lighter to carry. But it’s not real, so it’s not worth fighting. You already know what  _ is _ real, and what  _ is _ worth fighting for. You just have to find the courage to take the first swing.

“I… I’m not sure I have the strength.” Nicole whispered as the image of Waverly walking away from her swam repeatedly through her head.

“Then take some time. To heal…” Nedley replied. “...and then fuck the universe over with a suckerpuch to the throat.”

A laugh burst out of Nicole, gurgling past the restrained tears pooling at the back of her throat. It was loud enough for the camera crew to shout “Cut!” and gesticulate in their direction for silence, while also waving them over to get ready for their own segments.

Turning to Nedley for the first time, Nicole sobered. “And people call me the walking bumper sticker.” She smiled as his face lightened.

“Oh, well. Even old timers like me pick up the odd internet poem now and then. Come on. We might be able to overhear whatever nonsense Wynonna is spouting now.”

“Okay but I get the feeling we might regret this decision very quickly, Sir.” 

“Stop with the ‘Sir’ crap. I haven’t been that guy in quite some time. Papaya Nedley will do fine.” Nicole grinned in response as they both arrived on the marks silently indicated by one of the young runners. They had barely come to a stop before Wynonna suddenly pointed directly towards them. 

Nicole heard her say “She bet me it would happen, and it happened so…”

Then, she watched helplessly as the camera rig panned back to take in the image of Wynonna unexpectedly moving off her mark. She began stripping her shirt off, followed by her boots as a secondary crew also panned back to capture Nicole and Randy’s stunned reactions.

“Oh no. Nonononononononono…”

“What the...?” But Nedley didn’t bother to finish his question as Wynonna next stripped off her maternity pants and sprint waddled in her underwear towards the stream that meandered through the entirety of the Gardner Estate.

“Wynonna!” Nicole took off after her impulsive friend but with a head start, Nicole only managed to catch up to the bra that landed in her face and trip on the giant underwear at the edge of the stream before falling in after her, head first. 

“Argh it’s so cold!” Wynonna screamed as she fought against the surprisingly strong current, rather unlike the squad of ducks passing her by in the opposite direction. “What are you looking at!” She shouted at them while Nicole fought her own battle against the strong pull dragging both women downstream and away from the tent.

“They’re looking at you, you idiot!” Nicole screamed at her friend as she managed to catch her, trying and failing to get her good arm around Wynonna’s torso in an attempt to rescue-tow her back to safety.

“Get off me, Narc!”

“I’m trying to rescue you!” 

“Fuck off! I can swim!” 

“Ohhhh, I am soooo sick of your attitude!”

“Shut up! This is your fault!” Wynonna shouted, flailing under Nicole’s unerring attempts to grab her.

Nicole finally managed to painfully snake an arm up and under Wynonna’s shoulder, forearm to sternum, rolling her onto her back just as the pair floated under the stone bridge, past where Nedley was now sitting in front of Bulshar. 

“Not everything’s my fault Wy.” She said as she briefly locked eyes with him, nodding as if to say ‘I got this, don’t worry’.

“Well this is! You bet me I wouldn’t get a handshake. I got one and now here we are, Jack and Rosing it, down the stream. Not K.I.S.S.I.N.G!”

Wynonna stopped flailing long enough to shout “Ride or die, assholes!” up to the bridge with a raised hand sporting a rock-on devil-horns hand gesture. Her raised arm destabilised their body-raft enough for Nicole to practically shout in Wynonna’s ear “My money’s on die if you keep this up!”

“I can’t die. I just got a Hollywood handshake. I’ve got a final of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off to make!”

“Which won’t happen if you keep struggling Wynonna! Just… relax would you?”

“Relax? Seriously? I’m floating pregnant and naked on a living-narc-whitewater-raft down a river masquerading as a stream after being praised on television for my superior doughnut making skills and you want me to relax?” 

Nicole snorted. Then she guffawed as the ridiculousness of their situation hit her square in the face. Brash. Impulsive. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. Wynonna Earp was many things but she was also, undoubtedly, the finest friend Nicole had ever made. 

“Yeah. Just let the current take you, Wynonna.”

“Let the current take me? I just flashed my tits to all of Canada!”

“It’s alright. You’ve got nice tits.” Nicole tried to reassure her while trying not to think about how her arm clung to Wynonna across her breastbone, completely bisecting her friend's chest.

“I guess we've both seen each other naked now.” Wynonna responded, raising her arms from the water slap at her floating breasts. “Tit for Tatas…” 

A calm silence settled over the pair as current to carry them quietly, water babbling away with its own commentary on the strange new passengers bobbing helplessly through it. Nicole knew that eventually they would float far enough to reach a swimming hole, where they could clamber aboard the pier and work out how to get back to the castle. For now, there was nothing but the dappled sun, the brush of low hanging branches in the water and the random quacks of befuddled ducks. There was no tent, no judgement, no failure, no absence or confusion. 

The sense of peace astonished Nicole. For the first time in a week, she felt safe.

“Need to pee…” Wynonna broke the calm, as inevitable as the tide. “...oooop. Need _ ed _ to pee.”

“Wynonna!”

“What? It’s not like there are Piranhas in Nanaimo…are there? Because I’d like to meet the fish that thinks it can make my hoo-ha its second breakfast.”

“Is this how Earps thank people for saving their lives?!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen. You realise I’m the one holding  _ you _ up, Haught potato? There’s no way I’d sink with this sort of ballast.” Wynonna pointed to the baby belly completing the three peaks of flesh rising from the waterline in front of them.

“Yeah well…” Nicole replied with an amused sigh. “That’s what we do right? Save each other from ourselves?”

“With the one brain cell we share between us.” Wynonna declared solemnly. 

Nicole could only throw her head back in the water, and laugh in agreement.  


︵‿︵‿٩(◕‿◕。)۶‿︵‿ヽ(°□° )ノ︵‿︵‿  
  


**INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** With filming complete for Sweet Dough, the judges and presenters enter the tent to make the final judgements on who will be star baker and who will be leaving the tent before the final.

**SUE  
** There are days when I know I have the very best job on earth, and today is one of those days, because I get to announce who has won Star Baker. This week, it goes to the creator of the hottest fruity buns to cross our palms, the best doughnuts Paul has ever put in his mouth and a stolen Stollen recipe which escaped the mold to wow the judges and cap off a near perfect weekend of baking. So, I am  _ delighted _ to announce, for the very first time, that your star baker this week, is Wynonna!

**WYNONNA  
** Holy [bleeping bleep] no [bleeping] way! 

Wynonna hops off her stool and fist pumps the air before running the short length of the other bakers still perched on their stools, enthusiastically high-fiving Jeremy, Nicole and Nedley in turn before returning to her seat.

Nicole reaches for the Star Baker badge in her back pocket. She moves to pin it to Wynonna’s apron but Wynonna hypocritically bristles away.

**WYNONNA  
** (Annoyed)  
Put it away. I don’t want a narc badge.

**NICOLE  
**(With admonishment)  
Suck it up Earp. 

Nicole smiles and returns to her seat, purposefully ignoring the subtle sweep of Wynonna’s hand under her eye.

**MEL  
** With Sue getting the good job, that means it's my turn to talk, and that can only mean it’s time to announce who has fallen at the last hurdle and who, by the narrowest of margins, will not be joining us in the tent for the final of this year’s Bake Off...

**CUT.  
** Unusually, the cut to the bakers in line is taken from behind them, with the presenters and judges blurred in the background. Nedley brings his arm up around Nicole’s shoulder at the same time as Jeremy’s snakes around her waist, his hand squeezing her shirt tight. Nicole reciprocates, but clutches onto Wynonna’s forearm, also squeezing the life out of Jeremy. 

**MEL  
** ...and that baker…

**CUT.  
** All the bakers look nervous as they are each shown in close up. Nedley appears to have a tear in his eye, both Nicole and Wynonna are trying to hide the fact they’re biting their bottom lip and Jeremy can’t stop his knee from bouncing up and down.

**MEL  
** ... is Randy. I’m so sorry my lovely. Come ‘ere for a last Mel and Sue sandwich.

Both Jeremy and Nicole express their shock as Nedley walks forward into the waiting arms of Mel and Sue. Together with Wynonna, they remain glued to their seats until Nedley extricates himself from the hug. Nicole closes her mouth abruptly, swallowing whatever she was about to say when Nedley turns to address her more directly.

**NEDLEY  
** You underestimate yourselves, all of you, and don’t you dare try to protest Nicole. I know you’ve felt like you’ve only just made it through, and maybe that’s true, but you  _ are _ here, and they need you. Who will protect Jeremy from rogue mixing bowl disasters? Who will stop Wynonna from setting fire to the tent before the end of the showstopper? I’m counting on you.

Nicole sighs in resignation, nodding her head in acceptance, while Jeremy and Wynonna grin and roll their eyes respectively. Wynonna shoves her good shoulder, making her tip off the stool.

**WYNONNA  
** (Whispering, but it’s caught on camera anyway)  
Listen, you know I’ll miss Nedley but I woulda missed you more. Can’t do it without you Haught-sauce. 

**NEDLEY  
** I’ll be here next week, waiting in the garden with everyone else for the finale party. I know you’ll all be fine. You know why?

The trio of bakers stand to attention, hanging on every one of Nedley’s words while Paul and Mary stand back, respecting the space Nedley’s gravitas had created.

**NEDLEY  
** Because… all three of you have made it through this competition, relying on your skills, your knowledge, your fearlessness, your integrity. You ALL deserve to be here. Each and every one of you. Jeremy. Wynonna. Nicole. You are the ‘Great British-Columbia Bake Off’ finalists, and your place here is more than well deserved.

**CUT. EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Post judgement baker interviews

**JEREMY  
** OH MY GOD! I MADE IT TO THE ACTUAL FINAL OF BAKE OFF! MY DAD IS GONNA FLIP HIS LID! OKAY! Okay! Calm down Jeremy. Think. What would The Rock do? What would The Rock do? What would The Rock do?

**NICOLE  
** I don't deserve to be here. I don't. I hate that we have to keep saying goodbye to each other because... we're all in this together. We've become a strange family built on flour, sugar and eggs. We're an all-in-one method sponge cake and... our bond is stronger than over-baked bread. I was ready to go. I should have gone, if not this week then definitely last week. I don't understand how I'm still here, but… I have to do my best. For Nedley, and for everyone else who’s gone before me. God I can’t believe I’m crying on national T.V. It’s just cake!

**NEDLEY  
** I’m so proud to be standing here. To have made it to the semi-finals in the Great British-Columbia Bake Off. I’ve done everything I wanted to and more besides. But for every achievement I’ve made for myself, I’m even more proud of the young people who’re left. They are three of the most uncommonly talented and decent folk I have had the pleasure to know in my somewhat long life. I am proud to have shared the tent with them, and I’m proud to call them my friends. This is their time, and I know they will all shine.

**WYNONNA  
** She’s not going to believe it. Wynonna Earp does not bake well enough to get Star Baker. Wynonna Earp does not bake well enough to get a Hollywood handshake. Wynonna Earp does not bake well enough to make it past week one, let alone make it to the final! This sort of stuff doesn’t happen unless you’re the Earp that begins with ‘Wave’ and ends in ‘erly. I gotta call her. She’ll be so happy! Surprised, obviously, but mostly happy.

Wynonna takes out her phone and speed-dials Waverly.

Just… wait there a second. 

It’s ringing. 

It’s… It’s still ringing.

Yup. She’ll pick up for me. She always picks up for me.

Still ringing… Hang on, she’s... 

Waves!? Hey, guess what?!

Oh. It um... 

It went to voicemail.   


．·゜゜·（／。＼）·゜゜·．  
  


🔃  _ Nice ProTITeroles retweeted  
_ **haught baps** @HaughtCouture * 7days   
HOLY SHIT! Patisserie week was a joke! You know I’m a huge Nicole stan, especially of her wardrobe choices but even *I* thought she should’ve gone this week. Poor Waverly!  #FightForWaverly

♥️  _ hit me with your best short pastry liked  
_ **Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits * 7days  
Hey how come there’s no word from @ColeCopperTop and @WynoWhiskey this week? They haven’t tweeted at all tonight. 

**Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits * 3days  
It’s been DAYS now and no activity AT ALL on social from @ColeCopperTop @WynoWhiskey and @EarpShallot Where is everyone!?!?! What the fuck happened after Patisserie week!?!?!?  
#FindWynonna   
#FindHaughtsauce   
#FightForWaverly   
#DidSomeoneDie ?

**Peggy Choux** @peggychouxbakes * 2hr  
So sad to see @RandyBuns57 leaving in Sweet Dough week. It was a pretty close run thing with @ColeCopperTop I reckon. Could’ve been either of them to go in the end. That Stollen Showstopper was BRUTAL!

**Eleanor4578934** @DampfNUDEleanor * 2hr @peggychouxbakes   
Really? @peggychouxbakes - I can’t believe Nicole is still in the tent. She’s caused both of my fave bakers to leave now and I just can’t see her doing well in the final. #BakeOffConspiracy 

**haught baps** @HaughtCouture * 1hr  
Still no word on social from anyone on Bake Off?! It's not just Wayhaught and Wynaught. Everyone’s been on radio silence for a WHOLE WEEK! WHY IS NO ONE tweeting during Sweet Dough week? @RandyBuns57 @JerBearBakes Anyone? Hey, @ChampHardonCollider got anything to say?

**Champ Hardy ✅** @ChampHardonCollider * 1hr Replying to @HaughtCouture  
Oh I got plenty to say but we actually have a gag order on us. We aren’t allowed to even tweet about it. #Sorry #Talktotheloyers  


(·Θ·) (·Θ·) (·Θ·)  
****

**AUTUMN  
** **Nicole’s house, Purgatory  
** **LAST THURSDAY NIGHT  
** **Broadcast of Pâtisserie week  
** **(Continued...)  
**

Nicole stared at her door.

Waverly was on the other side of it.

Because she’d shut the door in Waverly’s face. 

_ She looked…devastated.  _

_ Lost.  _

_ Waverly... _

_ She’s here?  _

_ How can she be here?  _

_ Now, of all times… I... _

_ She’s finally home?  _

_ Home?  _

_ Why did I say that? _

**Uh, that’s my sister, and my… my Nicole. I don’t think they really agree with the judges decision? So, um. They’re having a ‘chat’ about it. They can be a bit overprotective.**

The door remained resolutely shut and yet Waverly’s voice flowed loudly into the room as the final scenes of Patisserie week seemed to roar from Nicole’s television like the golden lion of MGM Studios. Nicole couldn’t escape her. She was surrounded on all sides by Waverly Earp, suddenly being everywhere at once and it was too much.

_ Why did she come here?  _

_ Why now? _

_ Waverly’s here? _

_ She brought Bobo? _

Nicole focussed on the door again, noting how fixed and immovable it looked sitting perfectly in it’s frame. She thudded her head against it, screwing her eyes tightly shut as she tried to unscramble her thoughts from her emotions into some sort of order that might allow her to work out how her limbs actually worked.

_ My Nicole?  _

_ She said, ‘My Nicole’ on the show?  _

_ Like I was… hers? Why would she say that?  _

_ Why would she say that, like that unless…  _

_ She’s here.  _

_ Right now.  _

_ Why did I…  _

**_NICOLE RAYLEIGH FUCKING HAUGHT!_ **

Nicole’s heart was already in her throat so hearing the insistent, screeching voice of her mother suddenly invade the airspace between her ears for the first time in months made Nicole feel like she was choking on her own heartbeat.

_ M… Mom? _

**_OPEN THAT FUCKING DOOR RIGHT THE FUCK NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY FUCKING ACTIONS!_ **

_ What the FUCK! _

_ Where have you been! _

**_Never you mind where I’ve been, I..._ **

_ No! Fuck you Mom!  _

_ You died!!  _

_ THEN you left!  _

_ Just like she did, so…  _

_ So you don’t get to lecture me… _

**_Do NOT test my patience ‘Cole-’Cole. She’s here. She’s actually, finally here, and maybe she’s come to tell you she wants to be free but for God sakes let her tell you that. Open the door and let her tell you what she came to say._ **

_ But what if… _

**_Then you’ll know, and Wynonna will be here soon. We’ll all know and we can heal, but ‘Cole? What if she’s here to apologise? What if she’s here to tell you she wants you?_ **

_ I don’t think I’d be able to believe it… _

**_Then don’t think._ **

**_FEEL._ **

Another beat passed, Nicole’s hand was inches from the door handle.

_ Tell me what to do mom. I don’t know what... _

**_Open the door._ **

**_Open the door, look into her eyes and feel._ **

So Nicole opened the door. 

And Waverly Earp was still standing on her front porch, holding a fluffy cactus while tears of heartbreak flowed down her face.

Nicole didn’t think. 

She looked into Waverly’s eyes and saw sorrow, regret, and hopelessness.

Nicole felt.

She allowed every conflicting emotion to rise, powerful, relentless and unexamined. She felt a burning need to take Waverly in her arms, to hold her, comfort her, to whisper ‘ _ Everything’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you’,  _ but it warred with the impulse, the petulance that told her to slam the door in the first place. The anger that she had suffered all these weeks rose and fell with pulses of relief that only made her angrier still and she felt it all, at once. Overwhelming and all consuming.

She had no chance. No chance at all to think in the face of Waverly Earp, the love of her life, standing on her front porch with tears streaming down her face.

Nicole reached.

Not for Waverly but for the delicate plant in her hands. She took it, turning away to place it safely on the side table beside the door, next to the crystal pineapple lamp Wynonna had bought her as a housewarming present. Then, she turned back to the door and a now confused Waverly, still tear stained and trembling.

Nicole took.

She grabbed at Waverly’s coat, pulling her roughly inside and Waverly reacted immediately, falling into Nicole’s arms and burying her face into her shoulder where more tears took their chance to make a run for it.

Nicole held on, barely, to her (ex?) girlfriend’s frame, closing the door with her foot. Waverly cried harder into her shoulder to the sound of the Bake Off outro music, an entirely misplaced jaunty lilt. Still, Nicole had no idea what to do. 

Nicole held.

Held on for dear life while Waverly’s tears slowed and quietened, yet neither of them moved to shepherd in the next moment. This moment, holding each other in shock and surprise, was pregnant with expectation, but safe from the certainty of knowledge that once parted, the next moment in time might reveal truths both women were entirely unprepared to hear. 

Nicole broke.

Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn’t used it in months, and in truth, perhaps she hadn’t. Her true voice reserved for Waverly’s ears and Waverly’s ears alone.

“It would be so easy.” She began with no idea what words would fall from her next. “So, so easy to kiss you. To take you, to take what _ I _ need from you. What I needed from you all these weeks. To revel in the feeling of your skin against mine, to revel in the taste of you being here, with me...” 

“Yes, Nicole. I want, I need, I… I need to tell you how much I lo..” 

“...but I’m not going to.” Nicole deliberately let her arms go slack, all but dropping Waverly and trusting her to take her weight on her own feet. She stepped back slightly, unwilling to see what expression Waverly used in reaction to her rejection. 

“I can’t. I won’t. Not until we talk.” 

Nicole raised her eyes to look at Waverly, and felt her resolve quiver. She could be kissing her right now, pushing Waverly back against the door, and  _ feeling _ instead of watching Waverly’s face tremble and pull taught with the effort of controlling her emotions. It took every shred of Nicole’s willpower to resist the urge to hold her and tell her it would be okay, because she didn’t know yet, if it would.

“Okay. Okay, that’s fair…” Waverly spoke through her fallen tears, tucking her arms around herself exactly as she had done the first day they met. “So talk.” 

Suddenly, all the words in Nicole’s lexicon evaporated to join her resolve somewhere in the ether. Instead, her eyes locked with Waverly’s own, shocked by the acceptance tinged with defiance in her tone. 

This was a different Waverly than the one who had left. 

It took Nicole a minute to notice what had changed, but when she did, when she finally saw what was different about the Waverly standing before her in her new home in Purgatory, hope exploded in Nicole’s chest like a supernova. 

It was the cloud. Or rather, the absence of the frowny, foggy, misty film that so often haunted Waverly’s gaze. Instead, there was nothing but the deepest clarity and certainty in the hazel depths locked to her own. Nicole felt like she had been granted ingress to her soul. 

Nicole Haught fell in love with Waverly Earp all over again. 

“Look, I’m just gonna start because I think someone’s put this video chat on mute, okay?”

Nicole could only nod, stupefied by her realisation.

“Nicole Rayleigh Haught. I know it is far, far too late and I know I will live with the regret of how recklessly and selfishly I have behaved for the rest of my days, but I cannot imagine living another day on this earth without having told you that I love…”

“Hey, I’m here!” Wynonna shouted, bursting dramatically through Nicole’s doorway. Oblivious to her visitor, Wynonna lobbed an actual fresh pineapple at Nicole with enough force that Nicole reacted instinctually, grabbing Waverly tight to her chest and turning so she caught the flying fruit in the centre of her back.

“Jesus, Wyn!”

“And so are you two. Doing that. Right in front of me. Right, you guys do that and Ill just go over here and shove a melon out of my vagina!” Wynonna raised her phone to her mouth and spoke into it like it was a dictaphone. “A MELON. Out of my VAGINA, Jeremy.” 

“But you’re not due..” Waverly offered weakly by way of introduction to the sister she hadn’t seen in months.

“For another three or four weeks? Yeah. I am aware. Also, great to see you Waverly. Impeccable timing as always.” She turned her attention away from the pair, continuing her conversation with Jeremy. “Yeah, I know! I had no idea she was here. Wait, you knew?” Wynonna held her hand over the receiver so she could talk to the room.

“Remind me not to break down on the outskirts of town on my way to kick your ass again Haught because I’m pretty sure I just got blacklisted from Anthony Bumfucks tow truck for breaking my waters all over his front seat.” She turned her attention back to the phone as Nicole and Waverly looked on in growing horror, completely unaware of how tightly they were still holding one another.

“Anyway, how’d you know to call me right now Jerbear?” There was a pause as Wynonna pulled a disgusted look “You have a psychic groin connected to my hoo-ha?!”

“Okay, Wynonna, if your waters have broken we have  _ got  _ to get you to the hospital.” Nicole dropped Waverly without a second thought. “Have you got your ‘go-bag’?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer based on the expression on Wynonna’s face. “It’s all right, I’ve got mine in the cruiser. Come on I’ll drive us.”

“Nuh uh, you won’t.” Nicole heard Wynonna dismiss her and the tinny yet loud yell of ‘NO!’ from Jeremy through the speakers of the phone. Nicole looked guiltily down at the empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

“I can take us. I borrowed Robin’s car. I’m parked outside.” Waverly suggested meekly from the sidelines.

“Yeah, that might...ight...uhhhh-uhhhh-hhhh be a gooood idea, oh shit, these suckers are getting a bit more annoying now. Come on, Baby Bean.” Wynonna winced through the pain of a contraction. “I’ve carried you around for a really long time now so go easy on me okay?”

Supported by Waverly on one side and Nicole on the other, Wynonna grimaced through her worsening pain and waddled slowly outside.

“I’ve got her, it’s okay.” Waverly whispered to Nicole as they made it to the cruiser. She was ashamed at how much it hurt to watch Wynonna walk over to the unfamiliar car across the street with her sister, while she locked up the house and collected the go-bag. She was even more ashamed of the way she threw it at Waverly so she could help Wynonna into the back seat.

“Why are you…” Waverly questioned and again Nicole felt a roil of petulance course through her, hurt swirling around her heart where it had no right to swirl.

“There’s an airbag in the front, Waverly. It’s dangerous.” Nicole replied curtly. “You’d know that if you’d been here to help prepare.”

“Hey!” The double-barrelled admonishment from both Earps immediately pulled Nicole back to herself.

“While completely fair, can we just concentrate on getting Wynonna to the hospital please?”

“Fine.” Nicole complained, completely ashamed of how petulant she still managed to sound. She just couldn’t shake away the heavy burden of cognitive dissonance that had wrapped around her as soon as Waverly arrived. The joy at her return was a puzzle piece with completely different contours to how she imagined supporting Wynonna through the birth of her baby.

Waverly didn’t fit here. Except of course, that she did. 

_ Waverly is Wynonna’s _ sister. _ She’s an Earp, and I’m just… _

“Hey! Earp-lite.” Wynonna’s insistent tone grabbed her more completely than the fist that suddenly appeared in her shirt, dragging her down into Wynonna’s pained face. “I  _ need  _ you to get to Doc. I’ve pushed him so far away. Can you just...find him?”

Another contraction wracked her friend as Nicole wrestled with the seat belt. “Nicole!” Wynonna’s voice, edged with barely contained panic, cut straight through Nicole’s heart. “Please?”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll ring around. I’ll find him, Wynonna. I swear it.”

Wynonna’s fist relaxed, but Nicole was not released from her grip for long. Wynonna’s hand grabbed at her face, squishing the sides of her mouth together until her lips formed a gaping fish-face.

“Get Doc, then get your ass to the hospital to meet your niece. Got it?”

“Yeth Wyno-no…” Nicole managed to reply.

Seconds later, the car door was shut, and Waverly had executed an expert u-turn, tearing away down the street, away from her. Again. But this time, she’d taken Wynonna too.  
  


(￣^￣)ゞ  
  


_ Oh god! We’re gonna die! _

Of all the things Nicole had expected Doc to pick her up in, an ancient hot pink Lincoln Continental was not one of them. He’d arrived forty-five minutes after she’d finally tracked him down by phone at Shorty’s and he had declared ‘I will be there momentarily!’ It wasn’t until she had gotten in the passenger seat and he had peeled away at great speed that she had begun to fear for her life.

_ If ever I needed a reason  _ **_not_ ** _ to drink… this... this is it… _

**_Nicole! Don’t let this man kill you! There’s no room in the pineapple for you, me and this fucking crab!_ **

“Where did you find this hunk of junk!” 

Nicole tried to distract herself as Doc, finally, pulled into the hospital car park. Her hands had turned white, gripping at her seatbelt for the entire ride. Every crunch and thump had reverberated up her spine and into her skull as his heavy foot on both the brake and accelerator bunny-hopped them into a parallel park that Doc angled parked into.

“Now, Nicole, I would warn you not to insult my dear Charlene. She may be an acquired taste but she is the steed we need for this most important mission. Now, saddle up. We have an Earp to assist.”

“I am not insulting  _ Charlene. _ I’m insulting  _ you _ ! Did you get your licence from a cereal packet or did you just sleep with the instructor?” Nicole accused.

“Licence?” Doc replied, stumbling out of the car and bustling for the hospital entrance before Nicole could respond.

“We are going to talk about this later.” Nicole threw at his back when she caught up to him just inside the entrance. His long coat fluttered around him as he twisted and turned, unsure which colour-coded corridor to head down.

“Yes. Much later Officer Haught. Now where in  _ tarnation _ is the maternity wing!?”

Nicole sighed. “This way Doc. So much for your tracking skills.” She whispered under her breath.

“Nicole, I have never in my life had to track a female struck low by the beautiful act of giving birth to one of God’s great creations…” He turned abruptly to begin a steady march down the corridor Nicole indicated. “Although, I was once paid to find a farmers prized cow, lost for many days in a nearby canyon, but the less said about that singularly unfortunate and bizzare set of circumstances, the better.”

“I… okay, now there are  _ two _ things I wanna talk to you about later…”

Arriving quickly, Nicole reached out to press the intercom to announce the arrival of the father of Baby Earp, when the double doors leading to the birthing rooms flew open, revealing a different Earp, full of wide eyes, nervous energy and palpable relief at seeing them both standing frozen in place by her unexpected arrival.

“Doc! You made it!” Waverly launched herself at him, pulling him into a fierce hug, like she had known him for eons rather than just the first week of filming Bake Off.

“As have you, Miss Earp. It is so very good to see you here.” He leaned back to look at her, almost like he’d forgotten Nicole was even there. “And are you well?” He asked with genuine concern.

Waverly’s eyes flicked to Nicole, as if the answer to that question depended on her. Nicole felt her gut twist with nausea.

“I am, thanks. I’m lucky I was in time. Speaking of. You’ve also arrived just in time.

“Is everything alright? The baby?” Doc’s voice went quiet as he nervously turned the hat in his hand backwards and forwards.

“Yeah, she’s good, Doc. She’s stable. The baby is fine too but they are monitoring her. Any change that indicates distress and you’ll be heading to surgery for a C-Section though, so… you should get in there.”

“Are you sure… that she wants me? With her I mean?”

“Doc. She’s been asking where you are pretty much non-stop. She actually threw me out, demanding I go find you.” She smiled as his face crumpled in on itself for a moment.

“I hope… I am enough.” He confessed quietly.

“It’s enough that you're here, Doc.” Nicole spoke, drawing a small smile from the strange cowboy man. “We’re all here. For you both.” Waverly added before pushing him playfully towards the door after pushing the intercom.

“Now, go meet your baby.”

With a nod, Doc set his shoulders, placing the hat back on his head. “I am ready.”

A buzzing sound announced the unlocking of the doors, and Doc pushed them open with a confidence only a cowboy entering a saloon bar-fight in a cheesy fifties western could muster.

And then, Nicole was alone with Waverly in the Maternity wing waiting room, waiting for small words with big consequences.

“So…”

“So…”

**_Don’t mind me. I’m just going to sit here, underwater while you attempt to make this awkward sandwich somehow less awkward…_ **

_ Jesus, Mom.  _

**_...I mean, I know I’ve been gone awhile but honestly, I’d forgotten what a useless dork of a lesbian you can be._ **

_ MOM! _

“Oh!” Waverly exclaimed, excitement lighting her face like bonfire night. “Your Mom’s back?”

“You… noticed that? How..?”

“Nicole…” Waverly rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world to notice when your girlfriend's dead mom talked to her in her head. 

Nicole shoved her hands in her pockets, hoping the act might quieten the tremors she felt in them, or at least trick her heartbeat into returning to beat in time to the BeeGees greatest hits. 

It wasn’t working.

“Um, let’s sit. Okay?” Waverly pointed to the four plastic chairs lining the wall in the tiny space provided for waiting families. 

Nicole thought that of all the uncomfortable waiting rooms she’d inhabited in her life, this was perhaps the most deliberately designed. 

The carpet was a sickly deep blue that looked like a child's painting of the sea but it was worn in places from heavy feet pacing, matted in others from discarded chewing gum and burned in others from an ill-thought out illicit cigarette or five. It was barely bigger than a corridor so it felt cold, impersonal and so cramped even the air had claustrophobia. 

The hospital staff clearly didn’t want hordes of extended family hanging around, impinging on the privacy of those giving birth. So Nicole hesitated for a moment, as Waverly didn’t wait for her answer and moved towards one of the middle seats. She fiddled with her phone in her pocket for a moment, thinking she should just call a taxi and leave the Earps to it. She could phone the hospital in the morning and see if Wynonna was taking visitors. The option was much more preferable to the one Waverly had forced on her - either to sit next to her, or deliberately leave a seat between them. 

One look at Waverly’s face had Nicole abandoning the thought and immediately sitting next to her where Waverly gratefully allowed her head to fall and rest on her shoulder while her fingers fidgeted with her rings and picked at her nails.

“Are you okay?” Nicole forced the words out, sounding small and uncertain, not knowing if she was ready to hear the answer.

“Yeah. There was a lot of shouting. It’s okay. I deserved it. She… she let me have it with both metaphorical barrels. I’ve been… oh fuck…”

The rare swear word was whispered so quietly Nicole wasn’t even sure she’d heard it, but the way Waverly collapsed in on herself, head falling away and dropping into her hands, told her everything she needed to know.

“I’ve been such a shit sister. She’s right. I have a whole lot of work to do with her. To earn her trust. I nearly missed this. I nearly missed the birth of my  _ niece _ ! I nearly missed… I  _ DID _ miss. You.”

Nicole sat, impassive, completely unsure whether she should try and comfort Waverly in any way. She had no words to soften the blow of Waverly’s self-realised truth, and no right to offer any sort of comfort via touch, having to physically stop herself from rubbing soothing circles into her hunched back. She tried to ignore how her heartbeat had risen again, nerves and anxiety expanding around her heart like memory foam.

Waverly drew her legs up into her chest and wrapped them in a self hug that she somehow managed to make look comfortable on the small plastic chair. Her forehead hit her knees, allowing a cascade of hair to hide the silent tears Nicole knew were falling behind the curtain.

“I’ve been a shit sister, and an even shittier girlfriend.” 

_ No, don’t do this. Not now, Waverly. _

“I don’t wanna talk right now. I… I can’t do this here.” Nicole spoke, voice stilted and unnatural, caught as she was between the instinct to reach for Waverly and protect herself by maintaining an appropriate distance.

“It’s okay. I get it. I just dropped in on you, unannounced and it’s a lot. So. I can wait.” Waverly wiped her eyes on her knees, trying to sniff quietly before looking out from her curtain of hair. She seemed to be consciously leaning in to one side of it so as not to have anything of hers touching Nicole, treating her like she was some kind of skittish animal primed to run. 

Nicole was simultaneously grateful and annoyed by the gesture, because she could still feel the tension and fear rolling between them and couldn’t help but try to mitigate it for Waverly, as if words right now could make any of this feel any better.

“I just… I need some time. To process this because honestly, Waverly. I am so happy you’re here. That you came back, whatever is happening with us. I’ll always be happy to see you. It’s just, there’s a lot to talk about. A lot of healing and all of that takes time. Time and big conversations.”

“Yeah, time we don’t have while Wynonna’s bringing new life into the world.”

“Exactly. You… understand right?”

“Yeah. I do. I really, really do. We can put a pin in it for a little while longer, right?

“Thank you.” Nicole whispered. She felt her shoulders lighten just a little.

_ One crazy thing at a time. First, a birth. Then… whatever this is. _

But as the silence grew, and the waiting went on, Nicole felt the weight return. Slowly at first, so slow that she didn’t notice it until a single thought crowded out all the others so she found herself no longer worrying about Wynonna and the baby. The thought was only a smattering of words but it was enough. Enough for Nicole to break her own embargo as she whispered a question into the stillness.

“Why?”

“Why did I go?” Waverly responded immediately, as if she had been waiting for exactly that question.

“No. Why did you come back?”

“Because… it was… time.”

“What does that mean, Waverly? God! You…you left and didn’t say anything, and it hurts so damn much. I just need… to understand why…” 

“It’s because I’m an idiot.”

“What? Waverly, that’s…”

“You taking the pin out?” Waverly asked, a little more harshly than she perhaps intended judging by the contrite expression her face made in after the words had escaped.

“I… no. Not yet. I just…”

“We’ll get to it, okay? Because I’m ready. To tell you everything. Everything that set up what my brain was thinking that night we fought. All the background and just sheer idiocy…” 

“Waverly Earp, you are a lot of things. A lot of very amazing and infuriating things. But ‘idiot’ is not one of them.” 

“Yes, I am.” Waverly responded with a clear and knowing conviction. “I’m an idiot full of sorries throwing a sorry party with little hats and a unicorn pinata filled with apology cookies.”

“Waverly, No.”

“Waverly, yes.”

The smirk tugged at Nicole’s mouth like a fish helplessly snagged on a lure. She turned away to hide it, not wanting to make light considering the tension that still hung between them, dense as planets collapsing under the weight of their own gravity. 

After a few beats of silence, Nicole couldn’t stand it any longer and picked at another pin in the murderboard of their relationship, hoping it wouldn’t unravel every colour-coded connecting string until it dropped in a tangled mess to the floor.

“So, uh, when do you…” Nicole swallowed, her tongue suddenly dry. “...when do you start the new job? In the city?”

"I don't." Waverly responded quickly, with a lightness that Nicole instantly reacted against.

“What? But it was your dream! Don’t you dare tell me you gave it up, that we went through all of this…  **_fucking bullshit_ ** , just for you to…”

“Well, this isn’t awkward.” The tired, worn voice of Randy Nedley snapped both women’s attention front and centre.

“Randy! Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” Waverly jumped down for her chair, releasing herself like a spring under tension. 

He opened his arms, accepting the hug she enveloped him in. “Now, with all this cussin’ going on I woulda felt sure I had just walked into the dive bar in town. But here we all are, in the maternity wing of the hospital, surrounded by mothers bringing sweet, innocent new lives into this world..” He smiled, despite his admonishment of the pair. “Waverly, dear. It’s good to see you too. It’s good to see you both.”

Nicole frowned. “How did you know? I haven’t had a chance to do a ring around yet.”

“Jeremy called me. That boy can talk a mile a minute but I gathered there might be a need for a worn out old timer to come and offer what support he can. So, I made a little detour north, before my vacation in Vancouver and, well. Here I am.” 

Waverly ushered Nedley to a seat. Notably, to one between herself and Nicole. She could tell that Randy had noticed and had plenty to say about it but was holding his tongue in respect to the environment. 

Everything was fine, for a few short minutes as conversation remained focused on Wynonna and waiting on news from beyond the double doors leading into the wing.

But soon, conversation segued into gentle chit-chat which felt like a booby trap with every casual question offered up and bantered back between them. Nicole could feel it, rising like an orchestra crescendo as Nedley tried to veer conversation back where he wanted it to go. She recognised the classic ‘good cop’ interrogation technique and predicted exactly when he flipped into ‘bad cop’ and just baldly asked what he wanted to know.

“So, am I right in thinking this is the first time you’ve seen each other since Pâtisserie week?”

The silence hung in the air and Nicole felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office as Nedley leaned back in the chair with folded arms, creating a pocket of air that re-revealed Nicole and Waverly to each other.

“An answer before we have a baby in our hands would be appreciated.” He admonished.

“Uh, yes…”

“Yes Sir”

They both quickly replied, speaking over one another but not looking at each other. Nedley merely sighed, evidently frustrated with both of them.

“So, Waverly.” Nedley turned to his first subject of interrogation. “Am I also to assume that you have not taken a position with the University of British Columbia.”

“Um… yeah. That’s right…”

Nicole felt the world turn sour at the words. It was like every movie cliche she’d ever witnessed, the disappointment and hurt feeling exactly like an unnaturally slowed record. She even imagined their voices distorting until Waverly’s next words grabbed her by the lapels and pulled her back to normal speed. 

"They're going through a restructure so the offer evaporated.” Waverly looked at the floor, returning her attention to the rings she couldn’t stop fiddling with.

“Oh, hell. I’m sorry kid.”

“No, it’s okay, really…”

“You just make sure you never give up.” Nedley directed the words to Waverly as he offered her a commiserating shoulder hug, but his next words were spoken while looking Nicole straight in the eye. “Lou Bega didn’t give up when Mambo’s number 1 through 4 tanked now, did he.”

Waverly laughed. “I promise, Randy. In fact, I already know what I’m going to do next.” Waverly’s eyes flicked up to Nicole, cautious, treating her like a damned wild deer again but Nicole was mesmerised, waiting on tenterhooks for each word.

“My friend there outlined details of the proposed new curriculum. There are going to be more online courses offered the year after next and they’re going to need a course designer and coordinator so... I'm thinking I might apply for that when it comes up. It would be a short term contract for around three months with options to extend. If I get it, it’ll give me the chance to try out teaching but also the freedom and time to keep writing baking books if this first one sells okay." 

“Did you finish the book?” Randy prompted.

“Already with the publishers.” Waverly replied. “They really like the direction I took it in. There’s a few things I need to check before it’s finalised though. I need to talk to you about that actually, Nicole.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. But later. When the pin’s out.”

A genuine happiness for Waverly squashed Nicole’s awkward anxiety for a moment. It was only a brief respite but it allowed a small waft of settled contentment to rise, warm, like the scent of freshly baked bread in the morning. 

“Alright. I can do that, yeah.” She responded, a small smile tugging at Nedley’s lips as she spoke.

“I’m so, so proud of you, Waves.” 

_ You deserve everything in the world. Everything your heart desires. Even if… what you want isn’t me.  _

“Honestly? I’m proud of myself too. It, uh, took me a while to realise, that it was okay to have goodness in my life and that pursuing happiness was something I could do too. As soon as I did, the words just flowed, and I realised… It was time. Time to come home.”

“Home?” Nicole leaned away, unsure whether she’d heard Waverly correctly. 

“Yeah. Home. Home has always been Goat River County. Being away for so long only made me long for it more. There’s no magical barrier keeping me here. I can travel whenever I want. I was never shackled to this place. Only my own head.” She playfully knocked on it like it was made of wood.

“So, you’re not... moving to the city? You’re really...home.”

“Yeah, I’m really home, Nicole.” 

“Because you want to be, right? You want to be here for you, and not because…” But Nicole didn’t have time to finish, nor Waverly time to answer as a loud shout blew out from behind the closed doors.

“I am  _ GOING _ woman! You do not need to shout so. I will get you anything your heart desires.”

“BRING ME HAUGHT!”

“Oh. Oh shit.” Nicole rose and moved towards the still locked door just as Doc burst through it. In his haste, he tripped on the coat held in his arm, and fell backwards onto his ass.

“I do hate it when we argue.” Doc spoke under his breath, accepting Randy’s hand up off the floor. “I am afraid I have been ejected from the premises by Wynonna’s own word.” 

“Um, does she really want…me?”

“Nicole, I would highly recommend you do as she desires and attend her bedside. It is your turn to bear arms against the demon currently possessing our dear Wynonna.”

“Doc!” Waverly accused. “That’s no way to talk about your daughter!”

“No! I did not mean… Oh hell, it seems all my words are the wrong ones no matter what I say.” He petulantly pushed the buzzer, and the door immediately unlocked. He held it open and gestured for Nicole to enter the gates of hell.

“Oh, okay. Here I go. I’m going now…” 

_ What the fuck do I say to a pregnant woman in the middle of labour! _

**_Today is the first day of the end of your life._ **

_ Mom! There is a  _ time _ for Golden Girls quotes and this is  _ not _ one of them. _

**_What? It’s not like you’re wearing it on a tee-shirt..._ **

Nicole turned to look at the assembled bakers before her, as if she’d drawn the short straw to lead the charge over the top into unrelenting enemy fire. They each wore identical facial expressions that revealed both fear and palpable relief. 

“Godspeed Nicole.” Doc said as Nedley saluted her. Waverly turned away, hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Nicole gulped, then walked through the door.  
  


_//\ \\((Ǭ))/ /\\\\_  
  


“YOU!” 

The word burst from Wynonna before Nicole had fully entered the room.

“YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

“I categorically  _ did NOT!” _

“YES YOU DID! ‘SOMETHING, SOMETHING, SINGLE MOMS ARE SUPERHEROES WYNONNA’. WELL IT TURNS OUT, SOMETHING, SOMETHING  **BULLSHIT,** NICOLE!

Clad in nothing but a sports bra, Wynonna paced in front of a conspicuously empty hospital bed, hands clasped to her lower back. Wynonna’s doctor seemed completely relaxed about the nudity on display, arms folded, leaning against the bench sink in the corner of the room just watching as if Wynonna were merely playing a round of golf. The juxtaposition between Wynonna’s constant moving and loud but measured breathing and the doctor’s complete and silent stillness was jarring.

Not knowing what to say in response, she tried to introduce herself. “Uh, Hi? I’m Nicole.” She raised her hand and awkwardly waved a hello. “What, uhhh, what should I do?”

“Dr. Navalar...” the woman waved back nonchalantly. “...and that’s entirely up to Wynonna.”

“AAAAH--AAAAH--AAAAH, THIS IS A BIG ONE! UNNNGHHHH-AAAAH-AAAAH AAAAH-AAAAH-AAAAH-AAAAH.”

“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” Nicole moved towards Wynonna but hesitated to touch, not knowing what might hurt or hinder her friend. The decision was taken out of her hands by Wynonna’s lurching body. Nicole reacted purely on instinct, catching her friend under the shoulder and around her back.

“UHHHH-UHHHH-UHHHH-UHHhh-UHhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh...”

“It’s alright. I’ve got you…” Nicole whispered into the top of her head as the contractions began to fade.

Eventually, Wynonna took back control of her weight but didn’t let go of Nicole’s arm. Her hair, sticky with sweat fell around her face so Nicole couldn’t see it. Her breathing quietened until the panting breaths were barely audible.

“It hasn’t stopped…” Wynonna managed to whisper quietly, letting Nicole go so she could resume her pacing. She made it exactly one length of the room before leaning heavily against the back wall and squatting on the floor. 

“Next one coming…ah-ah-ah holy shit Nicole, set up the Diana Ross karaoke ‘cos this baby is coming out and she wants the world to KNOW-OW-UHHH!” 

“Jesus. Wynonna, you need to get up…” Nicole rushed to her side where she was unceremoniously grabbed and dragged to the floor.

“Not moooving, ah-ah-ah-ah-UHHHHHHHGH.”

“Wynonna, the bed…”

“Not how it works, ‘Cole. I’m not getting up, uhhhhhh, this baby is coming NOW and you’re gonna catch her. Got it?”

“I...WHAT?” Nicole squealed meekly.

“Nicole, it’s fine.” Doctor Navalar tried to reassure her. “It makes it more awkward for us if there are complications but this is a natural childbirth position, and you’re both gonna do fine.”

“ListEHHHn to Doctor NAAAAv, Ni-Ni-Ni-Ni-cole.” Wynonna managed to pant while pushing her to the front. “AAAAAnd take your shIIIIIRt OOOOff.”

“Excuse me? Is it a requirement to be naked to assist a birth, ‘cos I didn’t read ‘doing a strip tease’ in the birthing books from the library.”

“For bAAAAAby skin-to-skin aftEHHHHr she’s bOOOOrn deputy dip-SHIT OH SHIT! FUCKING COME ON! STRIP! STRIP! STRIP! TAKE IT ALL OFF HAU-UGHHHHH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH OH SHIT! SHE’S COM-EHHHH_EHHH_ING!”

With Wynonna’s words ringing in her ears, Nicole practically ripped off her shirt as Doctor Navalar made a bed of towels around Wynonna’s feet. 

“Yep, she’s crowning! You’re good to go Wynonna. You’re doing brilliantly.”

“Oh, my god… Wynonna… you… You’re cracking open like a watermelon! Holy shit! How are you  _ doing _ that!

“UNNNGHHHHAAAAHHHHHHHH! STOOOOP FFFFFFUCKING AROUND IN PRODUCE NICOLE!” 

“That’s it Wynonna, you're nearly there. You’re baby’s nearly here, that’s it…one more push...” Navalar’s calm and encouraging voice almost became a drone. Nicole wasn’t even sure what she was saying. Her total focus was on Wynonna, on how the whites of her eyes now conveyed a fear that could no longer be suppressed. 

“UHHHH-Uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh-I can’t…” Two words that meant so much more than what the immediate moment suggested. Nicole could see the past in the depths of Wynonna’s gaze, the future too. 

“Yes you can, ‘Nonna.” Nicole’s voice almost whispered to her friend, choked as it was with emotion. Because she meant it. Wynonna could do anything and everything on land and sea because she was her own damn weapon against the vagaries of the universe, and Nicole would ride or die right alongside her. 

“Yes you can. You gotta let the current take you. Let it take you…” 

Wynonna’s head flopped forward, softly headbutting Nicole. “Trust uhhhh you, to say the-uhhhh ri-uhhhh-ght things when Uhhhh-I’m taking uhhh-uhhhh-normous shit on the floo-uhhhh-r.”

“Don’t worry about that, Wynonna. One more push. Come on girl, I know you’ve got it in you.” Doctor Navalar interrupted, thrusting a carefully folded towel into Nicole’s arms, pulling her to her knees. “Okay, it’s gonna go quick from here. I’m going to support her head but she’ll be in your arms, okay? Right, here she comes! Get ready Nicole...”

Despite Navalar’s foreshadowing, it was over faster than Nicole had imagined possible. As soon as she saw baby Earps face appear, the rest of her tiny body slithered directly into her hands, and was deftly assisted into her chest. She fell back onto her backside, the precious cargo safe in her arms.

‘Nonna, oh my god, oh my god, she’s beautiful, she’s so beautiful ‘Nonna, god you’re amazing! Holy profiteroles!”

The sound of that first gasp of air into tiny lungs became a memory that burned brighter than any other in Nicole’s mind, and she knew it would be one of the very last her dying brain would give up when her time to leave this earth came to her. Majestic was too small a word for being the first to hold a new life against your skin.

“Look Wynonna. Look what you made.” Nicole cried the words as Navalar busied herself around them, taking the new baby’s one minute APGAR score. Apparently satisfied thanks to the shrieking sound of newborn Earp lungs announcing her arrival to all and sundry, she retreated, allowing the two women to take in the moment.

“Hey little Earpy bean.” Wynonna managed through her tears, her hand having just enough energy to touch the gooey side of her daughter’s face. “You are the coolest thing I ever did, oh I know, I know. It’s cold out here. Shhhhh, shhhh, shhhh. I know you’re only a few seconds old and there really is a mega-shit-ton of trouble in this world to scream at, but you made some mess down here baby girl. Mama’s got some housekeepin’ to do.”

Through her tears, Nicole managed to ask a question. “Is it normal for her to cry? Does she need anything? I don’t….Holy shit, she’s still attached to you!”

Somehow, in the seconds after her birth, two plastic bread ties had been clipped to the umbilical cord, close to baby Earps body. Navalar held out a pair of surgical scissors. “I know you wanted to do this yourself, Wynonna but it’s harder than it looks.”

“Haught? Will you help me?” Wynonna’s voice was the quietest she’d ever heard it, and in that moment, Nicole knew with the certainty of the universe, that Wynonna had never uttered those four words together in that order in her life.

Nicole sat on the floor cuddled as close to Wynonna as she could get, the baby wedged between them. She wrapped her hand around Wynonna’s, and squeezed, providing the strength needed to complete the cut.

“No scissoring jokes.”

“Ha, Wynonna, my god.”

“Okay, you have a small perineal tear but let’s get through third stage labour before we deal with that, okay? Nicole, the nurses need to take her measurements...” Doctor Navalar nodded over her shoulder to a pair of waiting nurses who had materialised at some point during the birth.

“No, Don’t take her…” Wynonna weakly protested.

“It’s okay.” Nicole whispered, her eye’s catching hold of Wynonna’s flailing in the dark. “I won’t take my eyes off her. I promise. Nothing will ever stop me from protecting you and your baby. Nothing.” Nicole watched Wynonna’s eyes slow, the flickering dying out as they blazed with certainty, belief and acceptance. 

“I know. I know it, ‘Cole…”

Nicole grinned. “You called me ‘Cole.”

“Did not.” Relief poured into Wynonna’s eyes like sticky toffee from a pudding.

“Yes you did ‘Nonna. That’s who I am now. I’m Aunty ‘Cole...Oh…oh shit. I’m… I’m…I’m an Aunty…”

**_You alright there?_ **

_...No. Nope. I… Look at this baby, Mom… She’s not even mine but, like, apparently my heart had this whole other door in it with a little pocket universe inside it and it’s all for her? How? I can’t even describe… she’s… I LOVE her. I only just met her and I would DIE for her... _

**_Whaddaya mean she’s not yours? Babies don’t ‘belong’ to people. They belong to the universe. You’ve been shoulder tapped ‘Cole. You’re important to the Earps, which now includes your niece._ **

“And there it is. Not so haught-shit and confident now are we Deputy dingus, eh? Go measure our baby. I gotta…. What the fuck Nav-Uhhh-Uhhh-Uhhhh-ro? This bit is painful too?”

“Yep. But don’t worry. You won’t remember it in a few weeks.”

“LIKE SHIT I WON’T! JESUS CHRIST AT CHRISTMAS, UHHHH!”

**_Yeah, so this bit is waaaaay too familiar, so I’m gonna go…._ **

_ Don’t you dare Mom, I need you. _

**_No, Honey._ **

**_You don’t._ **

**_Not any more._ **

**_But guess who does?_ **

Nicole looked down at the precious bundle in her arms, her screamed protestations at having joined the world now dampening down to somehow very Earp like mewls. The wrench in Nicole’s heart as the nurses took her from her arms was an immensity Nicole could barely fathom. The thought of what it must be like for Wynonna losing sight of her for those few moments, utterly inconceivable.

Nicole was overwhelmed.

_ Thank you.  _

**_For what?_ **

_ For loving me. For raising me. For being the best Mom I could ever imagine... _

**_Loving you was the easiest damn job in the world._ **

**_Just like loving your niece, eh Aunty ‘Cole-’Cole?_ **

_ Oh, so easy. So damn easy mom.   
  
_

_//\ \\((( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ))/ /\\\\_  
  


“Wow. She’s really going to town on that thing.”

Finally propped up in a bed, Wynonna held baby Alice to her breast, who suckled like she was born for it after ten minutes of wriggly baby manhandling and barely PG verbal encouragement from her Mama and Aunt. Obviously, It wasn’t the first time Nicole had handled a boob, but it was certainly the first time she had handled one in a culinary context.

“Being born makes you hungry I guess. Boobs provide, at least for now.”

“True.” Nicole, perched on the edge of the bed in exactly the way the nurses had told her not to do. She reached out to gently stroke the feeding baby’s head. “Look at this hair. It’s insane” 

“But Doc’s eyes, right. I mean, I know they change in the first few weeks or whatever but that is Doc Holliday’s twinkly-eyed magic and JESUS BEAN, that’s his friggn’ jawline too. Ow, baby girl!” Wynonna winced through the pain then moved until Alice re-latched. “Listen, If you want this mama-milkshake to keep up a steady supply to the yard, you’re gonna have to watch the tone of your gums.”

“She’s smart, like her Mama. She’ll have the hang of it in no time.”

“Oh no, it’s well established that I only have one brain cell and I share it with you now Haught.”

“I think that means we’re doomed. I gave her my half as soon as she was born. Gotta give her a chance, you know?”

“Really? Urgh, so did I. Maybe with one whole Earpy brain cell she’ll be rivalling Waverly before we know it, and seeing as I said her name out loud and your face just folded itself into tight little hospital corners at the sound of it...  _ That _ was a surprise.”

“You’re telling me.” Nicole sighed, grimacing slightly in the knowledge Waverly was right out the door, waiting to be introduced to her niece.

“Are you okay?”

“Wynonna. You just gave birth and they literally put stitches in you from your vag to your asshole." 

"So?" 

"So quit worrying about me. But yeah. I think so. She wants to talk.”

“Do you?”

“No. Not yet, but I have to. Because…”

“You love her.”

“As sure as I love you and Alice. Yes.”

“Good. You better, but...speaking of the prodigal sister. I think it’s time for Alice to meet the rest of her family.”

Nicole smiled. “Okay, I’ll go get Waverly.”

“No, get  _ everyone. _ I wanna see how awkward Doc and Nedley get seeing me with my tata’s out!” 

Nicole snorted as she slid off the bed and walked towards the door, but Wynonna’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks. 

“I’m not gonna go all mushy or soft or whatever just because I’m high on nature’s oxy…” She leaned down to take a hit of Alice’s newborn baby smell to emphasise her point. “...but I’m gonna need my village to raise her, Haught-stuff. We need our baby daddy, our hero grandad, our science nerd uncles, and both cool as all shit lesbian aunts. It’s time… it’s time to let them in.” 

For a brief fraction of a second, Nicole bore witness to the facade of Earpy stoicism falling. Wynonna’s face crumpled in on itself as she accepted all the facets of that simple statement.

“We need you all, and I… I need  _ you _ Haught.”

“Me?”

“Especially you. You’re special to me Haught, don’t you dare do a runner on us if things… if it doesn’t work out with Waves, you hear me?”

For the first time, Nicole realised that it was entirely possible, that all her worry that she would inevitably lose both Earps one day might actually be a shared concern. That Wynonna might have worried she would leave her behind. Which meant, of course, that maybe, just maybe, Waverly had worried she might lose her sister in all this as well.

“Never Wynonna. I’m here and I stay, no matter what ultimately happens with Waverly. I’m in this. Like you said, I’m an Aunt now. I have responsibilities.”

The two women locked eyes. Nicole watched as the worry slid away from Wynonna’s eyes and all that remained was (unconditional) love. 

“Starting right now. I’m gonna go get the rest of our family, okay?”

“Thank you Nicole.” Wynonna whispered, but the words were strong and steady. A parcel of love for Nicole to keep safe in her heart for the rest of her days. 

Just before the door closed behind her, Nicole heard her shout out a final instruction. 

“Ohhh! Tell them I named her Anthony!”

The snort of laughter Nicole failed to stop ripping through her whole body, accompanied her all the way to the waiting room.  
  


⋛⋋( ‘Θ’)⋌⋚  
  


**Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits * 1 day ago  
Holy shit is Wynonna pregnant? I mean, they obviously blurred her body because of the whole impromptu skinny dip but… I’m going back and watching the whole series from the beginning.

**Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits * 2hr  
See! I’m telling you - The only conspiracy going on here is that Wynonna’s been pregnant all series. 

♥️  _ ColeCopperTop and RandyBuns57 liked  
_ **WynoWhiskey?** @WynoWhiskey * Just now  
Wassup losers? We’ve been a bit busy perfecting a new bake so STFU maybe?! #GBCBOFamily  
[Alt Text: Picture depicts me, actual Bake Off finalist Wynonna Earp, in a hospital bed holding her newborn daughter. On her left, bakers Doc and Nedley coo at the kid, while on her right, bakers Nicole and Waverly coo at each other like the useless lesbians they are. I love writing picture captions for my tweets. I know it defeats the purpose but I LOVE knowing I’m insulting them and THEY’LL NEVER KNOW!]

🔃 _Randy Nedley and others retweeted  
_**WynoWhiskey** @WynoWhiskey * Just now  
We’re all proud of honorary grandad, Papaya Nedley! @RandyBuns57  
[Alt text: Picture depicts: Bake Off baker Randy Buns Nedley holding my baby with the proudest grandad look on his face despite the huge comedy fake moustache we put on her to make him laugh.]

**Cuntry Bundt Tin** @BakedOffMyTits *  Just now  
WAIT…..  
*DOC* IS THE DAD!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!   
🤯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on so much pain medication when I finished this, you have no idea...


	12. Wild is the Windtorte (by Nina Simonaitis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a completely unnecessary joke is made by Mercedes, Waverly finally learns who wins The Great British-Columbia Bake Off, and the author sits in a corner and cries now this epically long fic is finished.

“  
 _With your kiss my life begins  
_ _Daddy, you're spring to me  
_ _All things to me  
_ _Don't you know you're life itself  
_ _Like a leaf clings to a tree  
_ _Oh my darling, cling to me  
_ _For we're creatures of the wind  
_ _And wild is the wind_

“

**BAKE OFF FINALE  
  
**

(っ˘ڡ˘ς) ┌iii┐  
  


 **EXT. GROUNDS SURROUNDING THE BAKE OFF TENT  
** A succession of former bakers are interviewed in the garden outside the tent, and the party atmosphere generated by the gathering of friends and family can be seen in the background of each shot. They are each asked in turn, ‘who do you think will win the Great British-Columbia Bake Off’.

 **AMBROSE FISH  
** (Holding his son on his hip)  
Oh, um, well, I could definitely see Jeremy holding that cake stand, but I actually think it will be Nicole. She told me she’s had a rough couple of weeks and I know that injury has bothered her but the way she talks about baking, how she works through unpicking things that have gone wrong. She absolutely deserves this. She’ll win. I know it.

 **JOHN HENRY HOLLIDAY  
** (Adjusting his hat)  
Surely it is unfair to ask one such as myself who has the steel to take this most esteemed prize. I have not had the good fortune to see these fine people baking beyond what I witnessed with my own two eyes in week one. What I can tell you is that Wynonna, Nicole and Jeremy have all become very dear to me, in their own way. Perhaps Jeremy’s knowledge and passion would be the safest bet, but as I am a betting man, I do believe I could not go past the odds of an Earp coming from behind. 

**XAVIER DOLLS  
** (Standing staunchly, arms folded.)  
Nicole. 

The camera remains focussed on him, as if expecting him to say more. He doesn’t.

 **CUT. INT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** The three finalists, Nicole, Jeremy and Wynonna all walk into the tent, nerves clear on each of their faces as Sue’s voiceover begins the final segment of the Great British-Columbia Bake Off.

 **SUE PERKINS  
** (Voiceover)  
On their final day in the tent, all three bakers have everything on the line and it all comes down to this final bake. Who will be this year’s Bake Off Champion?  
  


(っ˘ڡ˘ς) ┌iii┐  
  


 **SUMMER  
** **Crofte Castle Dining Hall  
** **SATURDAY MORNING**

“No, I will do it” Wynonna scoffed as an indignant Nicole took a second croissant from the breakfast buffet.“

“Why, ‘Nonna?”

“Because, Narc-ole. You couldn’t organise a fuck-up in a nunnery.” 

As much as Nicole was irritated by the banter, each of Wynonna’s snipes seemed to magically release a few PSI from the knot of pressure in her stomach. She was hoping it was simply filming day nerves, but she suspected it probably had rather a lot more to do with the anticipation of Waverly’s imminent arrival. 

It was the final day of filming. Nicole’s final day in the tent but all of that paled in comparison to the fact the Waverly would be here soon, just like all the other bakers in this year’s competition. They would all be here with their families, enjoying the party atmosphere in the garden while they filmed the final showstopper. When Nicole exited the tent with Wynonna and Jeremy by her side, Waverly and all her new friends would be there to greet her. 

Nicole’s nerves bent and twisted within her as a part of her hoped to put off seeing her until that moment, so she would be saved from having to open with useless apologies, or begged forgivenesses. Although, sitting at one of the long tables in the Crofte Castle dining hall, with Wynonna opposite her, and Dolls, Fish, Nedley and Jeremy plowing through the buffet, Nicole couldn’t help her attention flicking repeatedly to the door, waiting and hoping for Mattie and Waverly’s arrival.

So she was grateful for the distraction of lively banter around the table, even if Wynonna was wrong about everything.

“What? A quiet meet up in my new house in Purgatory _will_ be a great way for us all to celebrate the first episode broadcast. Besides. Nuns are celibate, so your analogy doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Uh, yes it does Haught. Nunneries were infamous sex dens, historically speaking.” 

“Bullshit!”

”I have to say, that's very heteronormative from Purgatory’s new back-up lesbian.“ 

“Hey!” 

“It’s true! Doc once told me he tracked a flasher to a religious commune and found an entire case load of dildo’s. Small ones, long ones, battery operated, ribbed, realistic vein popping, rainbow glittered. One even had flashing lights and played ‘Home of the Brave’ when you turned the settings to ‘oh god, don’t stop’.“ Wynonna placed both hands on the table, throwing her head back to enunciate the last words.

“Doc found dildos in a nunnery?” Nicole deadpanned, her eyes losing focus as she tried to process the mental image forming in her head, before literally shaking herself out of it. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.” 

“Anyway, I'm pretty sure he wasn’t making it up.” Wynonna shrugged before returning to her breakfast.

“You know who'd know for sure, right?” Nicole almost whispered her response. A mental picture of Waverly launching into an adorable fact-filled lesson on the history of women-only ecclesiastical spaces floated aimlessly past her consciousness, airy and light in the exact way that most history textbooks were not. 

_Waverly._

_What the hell am I gonna say to you when you get here?_

_What words could possibly be enough now?_

Nicole’s eyes flicked to the door for the umpteenth time, as if the power of her will could conjure Waverly from the ether. 

“Yeah, but she's not here yet.” Wynonna looked around the breakfast room of the castle, waving her croissant around the assembled bakers. “Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but I have some choice words for my absentee sister.” 

“Where’s she been, anyway?” Dolls asked innocently, too busy with his stack of pancakes to pick up on the tension in Wynonna and Nicole. 

“Off writing her Sooke-book. Ignoring our asses.” Wynonna carped, causing a silence to drop over the table. 

Nicole could feel the eyes of everyone else in the room looking at each other instead of her or Wynonna. It was excruciating.

“Anyways. Nicole’s house will be as straight and boring as the stick up her ass, so the broadcast premier party _will_ be at the Homestead in Purgatory. There will be alcohol and there will be fire. Be there, and spread the word to everyone else.

“Including Bunny and Champ?” Fish broke the pall on the table.

“Shit yes. They won’t come so we can still bitch about them.”

“And Doc?” Dolls asked quietly.

“Also, yes. Because he won’t come either. His Mom is sick. Which might be bullshit.”

“Well, you never know with Doc, right?” Jeremy replied. “You know, he told me the nun story too but in my version there were three cases of dildos, a cupboard full of floggers and a stuffed cat with…” He lifted his hands and made quote marks as he imitated the man’s distinctive drawl. “...the most hauntingly beautiful eyes I had ever the good fortune to gaze upon.”

“What!? That’s what he said to me the day we... “ Wynonna’s voice trailed away as she banged her fist on the table making Dolls’ pancake plate jump and clacker about. “ASSHOLE!”

“Did somebody mention floggers? Because we all know that’s Nicole’s thing, right?” A new voice cut across the room from the doorway. 

Mercedes entered quickly, flicking her eyes around distractedly like she was looking for someone. “Have you seen a small asshole in a suit wandering around? I’ve lost the production lawyer and I do NOT want him loose around here. What? What are you all looking at? Do I have food on my jacket?” She patted herself down as the eyes around the table stared at her in awkward silence. Nicole’s cheeks near self-immolated from the pink fire that raced across them..

Wynonna however, was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hell no Mercedes, you look bitchin’ as ever! We just wanna know how _you_ know about Haught’s kinks?”

“Can we not.” Nicole and Nedley managed to say in perfect unison.

“Oh, right. Well, you’re the only one with keys to the playroom, Nicole.”

“Playroom?” Nicole whispered, her brows knit tight in confusion. Mercedes had given her and Waverly the keys to her private gym located high on the fifth floor of the castle, where they had, admittedly really rather quite often, not finished their morning Yoga routines with the positions they were strictly supposed to.

“You naughty bitches left a mess for me to clean up every damn week. Still, it was tidier than after I let ‘The Great British-Columbia Bukkake Off’ film in there.”

“Excuse me, what!?” Nicole squeaked and Wynonna cackled uncontrollably beside her until Mercedes reminded her that by implication, Waverly had been using the room with enthusiasm too.

“I’m kidding! Tell me though, who was more into the flogging? You or Waverly?”

“YOGA! Nicole exclaimed, utterly exasperated. “We used the room for morning YOGA, Mercedes!”

“Really?” Mercedes looked incredulous. “Every week I had to re-hang the floggers in the cupboard.”

“There were… cupboards?”

“Oh you sweet little vanilla lesbian. Didn’t you notice the mirrors? The one closest to the door opens and inside is a little collection I’m building. You mean to tell me this whole time I thought you were being adorably freaky sex fiends and all you did up there was _actual_ yoga?” 

Nicole’s mouth flapped open and shut, but no sounds emerged with which to defend herself. The blush on Nicole’s face did not retreat. She cast her eyes around the room as if a portal to hell might open up in front of her. If it had, wild goats would not have stopped her from running through it.

She could see Nedley with his hands over his ears, staring out the window. Fish had covered his mouth but the mirth in his eyes was leaking into the room like solar flares. Dolls held his eyes with his fingers like he was imagining gouging them out to get to the dustbin of his imagination. Jeremy was staring with a wide-eyed wonder directly at Mercedes, unable to look away. Wynonna looked like she was choking on her own vomit.

“Okay, so we didn’t _just_ do yoga. We were consenting adults and…”

“So you fucked Waverly against the mirror? Bit narcissistic. Well done.” Mercedes declared with pride. Somehow, it seemed possible for Nicole to turn fifty further shades of crimson. 

“Ohhhhhhh, Waverly fucked you. Got it.” Mercedes winked while offering a high-five, which Nicole half-heartedly returned.

“So… are all the mirrors cupboards?” She meekly asked, still feeling weighed down by embarrassment and completely unsure how to exit the conversation.

“Oh, no.” Mercedes dismissed quickly. “The others are two-way mirrors.”

“Oh my god, Mercedes! How many!? Which ones!”

As if Mercedes had pulled the plug out of the bath as soon as she entered, enough time had passed, enough things had been said, for the room to suddenly burst out into a squeal of laughter as loud as rapidly draining water.

“Mercedes. Please never tell her!” Nicole implored through the sound of her friends uncontrollable laughter.

“Tell who?”

“Waverly! Obviously! Everyone, please promise me. When she gets here, no one says anything.”

“Trust me, my lips are sealed.” Dolls said with relief despite the tears falling from his eyes.

“If only you’d sealed yours in the first place we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” Wynonna cackled while shoulder barging her.

“What?”

“The lips you don’t kiss with Nicole…”

“Who says I can’t kiss with them?” Nicole challenged back, finding a flare of backbone that often seemed to materialise from nowhere when in conversation with one Wynonna Earp.

“Argh!”

“Please stop.” Nedley remarked with a world weary sigh of a man who has seen and heard too many things to be able to fully enjoy his retirement.

“Alright, alright. It’s agreed.” Wynonna grabbed another croissant and shoved it in her mouth. “No more sex talk at the table.” As she chewed, Nicole noticed her eyes change again, a flicker of cold passing across them. She didn’t have to wait long to find out why. 

Wynonna pointed back to Mercedes with the pastry. “You’ve gone quiet.” 

“Oh… uh…” Mercedes fiddled with the hem of her jacket while her eyes flickered to the exit.

“Oh, uh, _what_?” Wynonna prodded.

“Um, Waverly’s not coming. To the filming.”

The quiet gurgle of the last swirls of laughter fell instantly away into a terrible, painful silence. 

Nicole felt her hope harden into ice and shatter all around her.

Wynonna’s eyes set into full (cold) mode.

“What do you mean ‘Waverly’s not coming’? We all have to be here. All of us. Together.”

“Yeah, um, that’s why Moody the asshole lawyer turned up. Don’t worry I sent his ass packing. He was all ‘This is a clear breach of contract’ and I was like ‘Bish, please. Where did you learn contract law, Calgary?’ and he got so offended that I was actually offended by his offence, you know?” 

Nicole could hear Mercedes talking, she could understand the technical meaning of the words organised into sentences, but she couldn’t look away from Wynonna. She couldn’t look away from the deep-seated disappointment she was trying to hide under those steely eyes. She couldn’t look away from the despondency she had caused by driving Waverly away so far that she wouldn’t be here to support her sister.

“Anyway, he said he was going to ‘get his house in order,’ so I said, ‘get your patriarchal bullshit suit out of my Christian Dior because _this_ house is _my_ house. Actually, it’s my motherfucking _castle_ and your bitch-ass has outstayed its welcome’. So he did. He fucked off and now I can’t find the weasley bastard!”

“Whoa. Now _that_ is what the Rock would do!” Jeremy offered.

“I know right? Anyway. It’s not a breach of contract. It’s just really, really frowned upon, and, sure, Moody’s frowning like the San Andreas fault line right now but he can’t do diddly squat about it. Your girl is fine.” Mercedes reassured with a completely non reassuring hand pat to Nicole’s shoulder.

“But she’s not here. So nothing is fine, is it.” Wynonna bit, her tone harsh.

“Did Waverly say why?” Nedley asked Mercedes quietly.

For the second time since power-walking her way into the room, Nicole saw the facade drop. Mercedes' face wobbled and she seemed to search for the right words while not looking at Nicole. She failed.

“Oh, um confidentiality. I can’t break client privilege.”

“Is she…” Nicole’s voice broke. “Is she okay?”

“I… I can’t really say.” Mercedes admitted. “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

Nicole nodded in understanding even though she really, really didn’t. Needing something to do with her hands, she mirrored Wynonna by grabbing another croissant, filling her face with it so she didn’t need to think about talking anymore.

“Right. Great. That’s just…” Wynonna ran out of words so she stood abruptly, grabbing her jacket and making to leave.

“Wynonna…” Nicole cautioned through her mouthful.

“Can it Haught. Breakfast is over. Go do your mindfulness, or running, or mastabatory Tai Chi or whatever it is you do before filming.”

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“A… walk?” Dolls enquired, incredulity evident on his face. 

“Yeah a walk. Is that so hard to believe?” Nicole watched as all four men allowed their eyes to travel downwards, taking in Wynonna’s swollen ankles before snapping right back to attention when they all simultaneously realised what they were doing.

“Oh, do completely fuck off, all of you.” She flipped off the room in general, then marched with purpose towards the door.

When Nicole rose to follow her, Wynonna called back “No” without turning around. “Don’t follow me, Haught. You’ve done enough.”

Nicole counted to twenty in her head before ignoring Wynonna completely and speeding after her.  
  


<(￣ ﹌ ￣)>  
  


Nicole was making a habit out of running after Earps.

It was sad really. A single word from either of them and she would be off, hoping to catch up before something irreversible happened. Hoping to be in time to provide the much needed voice of reason, the calming hand on an impulsive muzzle. Despite all the best intentions, she mostly just ended up sucked into the maelstrom, spun around endlessly until she didn’t know which way was left and which was right.

Catching a glimpse of movement in the woods ahead, Nicole stopped and took out her phone.

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _I can SEE you._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
 _I told you not to follow me._

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _What are you doing creeping around in the bushes?  
_ _Slow down and let me catch up._

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
 _Snoozers are losers, loser.  
_ _Hurry the fuck up or we’ll miss them._

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _Miss who?_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
 _BLOWHARDY_

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _WHO?!_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
 _Bunny and Champ!  
_ _They’re up to something.  
I can feel it. _

Nicole followed Wynonna into a thicket but flat out refused to hunker down behind the same bush as her friend, despite it being closer to the back wall of the Crofte conservatory. Instead she took up a position standing behind a tree and continued to text instead of talk whilst simultaneously questioning all her life choices to date.

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _What the_ shit _Wynonna!?  
_ _Can we talk about this?  
_ _Why are we fucking around with Champ?_

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
 _***_

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _Alright. Poor choice of words.  
_ _But come on Wynonna!  
_ _What are we doing here?_

Nicole silently gestured towards the bushes, the woods in general, the earth and the whole universe for that matter. 

Wynonna kneeled down in the dirt petulantly, ignoring Nicole while peering through the frosted glass of the back wall of the conservatory, as if closeness could somehow overcome its opaqueness. Nicole’s curiosity got the better of her.

“What the fuck are we doing?” She whispered, sidling up beside Wynonna with annoyance.

“Look, I overheard Bunny on the phone this morning.” Wynonna finally replied in an equally low tone.

“She’s here already? Thank god she didn’t come to breakfast!”

“She was talking to Champ. She was refusing to meet him in the conservatory.” Wynonna pointed at the glass wall as if it proved her point.

“If she refused to meet him, why are _we_ here?”

“Because she got really flustered with him, started shifting her eyes around like she thought she was being watched…”

“Which she was.”

“Yeah. Keep up, Nancy Crew-cut, jeez”

“Wynonna, I don’t have a crew-cut.”

“You could get one though. You’d suit it.” Wynonna shrugged before turning her attention back to the conservatory.

“Wynonna. We need to talk about…”

“ _Did you hear something_?” Wynonna whisper-hissed as a voice accompanied by a feminine silhouette hove into view on the other side of the conservatory wall. 

“ _Fuck! Shhhhh! Get down!_ ” She scrabbled backwards as Nicole shot back to her tree. Turning in circles like a dog chasing its tail, Wynonna found nowhere to hide, so she promptly lay down in the leaves and other detritus. 

Nicole knocked her head against the tree in frustration. ‘Let’s just go!’ she tried to mouth to Wynonna but she was eye-balls deep in her phone

W🧯N🔥N🧨A  
I knew they were up to something!  
Bunny got super shifty on the phone  
Whispered that she _would_ meet him after all.   
I wanna know what’s going on.

 _🔥 Crotch  
_ _Oh, please.  
_ _We already know Waverly’s book deal is safe thanks to Mercedes  
_ _And it’s not like Champ is sleeping with ‘Low-blow Loblaw’  
_ _Who cares why they want to see each other?_

The silhouettes grew larger as the taller of the figures leaned its shoulder against the glass. It looked like a white muscle shirt. Dirty blond hair pressed briefly against the pane, and although the frosting still obscured their bodies, they were definitely looking at blobs that belonged to Champ Hardy and Bunny Loblaw, standing very, very, intimately close to each other. Their identities were confirmed as soon as their muffled but legible voices carried through the glass to the hiding pair.

“I missed this. I… missed you.”

“You’re a sweet boy Mr James but I leave in a few weeks for my cruise around the coast of Portugal, and you have your new TV show to film.” 

“ _What the ACTUAL SHIT!”_ Nicole mouthed at her prone friend, mouth agape in horror.

“ _Ahhhh!”_ Wynonna mouthed back at her, face open in equal measures of shock, and revulsion.

All Nicole could think to do was agree by mouthing her own “ _Ahhhhh!” right back at her._

“We were never going to be forever, young man.” Bunny sounded regretful, like she was trying to convince herself more than Champ.

“I know. I just… I really like you Mrs Loblaw. I hoped… I hoped you might’ve wanted to… I never expected to… Ahhh, shit. Age ain’t only a number ya know?”

“No, it’s not only a number.” Bunny sighed again. She sounded pained. The vague outline of her face tipped up towards Champs.

“I don’t _care_ what people think, Bunny! I… I want to be with you. Can’t I just… be with you?”

“Your family…”

“Will get over it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I’ll get over them.” Champ’s shadow raised it’s hand to cup Bunny’s cheek before their foreheads pressed together. “I learned so much since being here. Losing my place in the tent really made me start reassessin’ things. I know… I know I’m not the brightest, but I don’t need no smarts to know how I feel about you.”

“But, I can’t very well turn up to the town council meeting with a… a… _toyboy!”_ Bunny’s scandalised voice rose a whole octave as the sentence wore on.

“Then don’t take me there.” Champ replied. “Leave me tied up at home instead.”

Nicole and Wynonna came to a simultaneous and unspoken decision at the exact moment the silhouettes of Champ Hardy and Bunny Loblaw became a single amorphous blob through the frosted glass of the conservatory wall.

They ran away.

Nicole’s upright position and long strides took her into an early lead, making it to the path leading back to the tent before she could even comprehend that she had left her friend for dust. She slowed, whirling around to check on Wynonna, only to be passed at speed by a blur of pleather, hair and the longest, loudest ‘Noooooooooooope.” she’d ever heard.

Quickly catching up to her friend, Nicole and Wynonna ran, or rather, ‘waddled at speed’, until they reached the end of the path, dropping themselves dramatically over the fence line that led directly to the field that housed the Bake Off tent, desperate panting breaths hoovering air into lungs that badly needed it. 

Oxygenated blood flooded Nicole’s brain but it didn’t help. Nothing could help Nicole erase the last few minutes of her life or take her back to a time when she didn’t know what Champ and Bunny’s lips sounded like when they touched.

She shuddered at the thought, turning to lean on the gate while Wynonna sat on the stile built into the fence beside her.

“ _Shit!”_ Was the only word her friend could manage.

“What… what did I just witness?” Nicole panted, sounding more out of breath than she had any right to be.

Wynonna couldn’t answer her. Instead she raised and wagged a finger at her, an insistence to leave off talking for as long as possible. Nicole nodded her agreement, not that Wynonna could see, considering her head was down, face shrouded behind the curtain of her hair.

Nicole was having difficulty processing her thoughts beyond wondering how a day that had started so miserably had somehow become even more miserable. 

_Oh that’s right. I’m friends with Wynonna Earp._

She didn’t mean to giggle. It didn’t accurately reflect how she felt on the inside, but on the outside, she existed in a world of dappled sunlight falling almost like snow flurries through the long, overhanging branches of the trees. In the distance, the Bake Off tent shone, it’s light only broken by the bodies of production minions and the odd baker or family member walking past.

In short, the day was gorgeous but Nicole had never felt so lonely in her life. The mysteries of the Haught--hating universe were ineffable and therefore all she could do was laugh in its face.

“What’s. Funny. Haught.” Wynonna finally sat up, brushing her hair carefully back with filthy muddy hands.

“Us. The tent. This day.” Nicole smiled despite herself. “ _Blowhardy…_ ”

“STOP TALKING HAUGHT! My ears are getting Herpes.” 

“But Wynonna… _Blowhardy. BLOWHARDY!”_

“Love is love, Nicole! Didn’t you ever go through an experimental phase?”

“Not with cougars!”

“Ship it like the Titanic, Captain Stubing.” Wynonna sighed, pulling the backs of her hands down her face as if to scrub away what her eyes and ears had witnessed. “I give it a month, tops. Urgh! I need to ‘control-alt-firestorm’ this from my memory.” Her hands moved to rub at her temples before jumping off the stile, aggressively dusting off the dirt and mud clinging to her butt. 

“I just don’t get it…” Nicole opined to the wind. “How can the universe condone the union of the shittiest shits on planet shitterton?” 

“It's a shit sandwich Haught. I'm not gonna eat it.” Wynonna replied with uncharacteristic quietude.

Nicole noticed the way Wynonna deliberately didn’t make eye contact with her. She noticed how she couldn’t make herself look at Wynonna either.

“I can feel you not looking at me Haught. Stop it.”

“Stop ‘not looking’ at you? You want me to stare?”

“Yeah.” Wynonna shifted her shoulders about like she was trying to shake off a particularly annoying angel or devil off her shoulder. “At my ass. Because it’s…”

“Covered in duck shit.” Nicole deadpanned while climbing the stile and hopping into the adjacent field knowing, trusting that Wynonna would simply follow her without question.

“What?!” Is that what this slimy…? Mother! Ducker!”

They walked idly through the tall grass, an easy silence falling between the pair. In ten weeks of baking in the tent, of getting to know the Earp sisters through joy, disaster, drink and literal fire, Nicole had come to recognise this calm. It was a doldrum she’d experienced before, principally with Wynonna. A silence that drew in the space and air Wynonna needed to find the words she needed to say.

"I didn't mean it." Somehow, Nicole already knew what she meant but stayed silent, allowing Wynnona to tack and turn, finding the pockets of wind to power her words at her own rate of knots.

“That you’d ‘done enough’. It’s not your fault Waverly didn’t show up today.”

“Yes it is Wynonna.” Nicole sighed.

“No it’s not. It’s her decision, and like she really enjoys telling me, she’s a grown up. She can make her own decisions. If she wants to wallow in self pity that’s on her. Not you, and not me.”

“But if I hadn't…”

“Hadn’t what? Fallen in love with her? Upended your life for her? Asked her what she felt for you? Nicole, how Waverly’s handling this is how Waverly’s handling it. There ain’t nothing we can or should do about it. We aren’t magicians. We can’t force people to our will.”

“I don’t want to ‘will’ her to do anything!”

“I know Haughtpants. That’s why I ain’t mad. Not at you anyway.”

“You’re not really mad at her either though, are you?” Nicole looked up at her friend, already knowing the truth from the expression on her face.

“No. Not really.” Wynonna was silent for a beat. “When did you get the power to see right through me?”

“Umm, Sometime between when you set GIzmo’s book on fire and when you set my kitchen on fire I think? There was fire anyways.” 

Wynonna laughed. “Yeah well. I gotta set _something_ of yours on fire seeing as this ass clearly does nothing for you.”

“It really, really doesn’t. Sorry Wynonna.”

“Stop saying sorry to me Haught. I hate it.” Before Nicole could open her mouth to protest, Wynonna continued. “Waverly’s off doing her thing. Like I always wanted her to. You gave her the courage to finally do it.”

Nicole swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “It’s all I ever wanted for her. For… us. She’s the best of us, you know?”

“I know.” Wynonna replied. “But there’s one thing we are, that we will always share for as long as we live. Something that’s just ours, you know?

“What?”

“We’re Great British-Columbia Bake Off finalists, motherfucker. We’re gonna smash this shit up.”

“Yeah. Then hug the living custard tarts out of Jeremy when he wins.”

“Word, Haught-potato” Wynonna offered a fist to bump.

"Now what?" Nicole asked, staring towards the tent.

"Now? We bake." Wynonna replied with a steely determination.

"For Waverly." 

"For Waverly." Wynonna agreed. “But this is for me.” Wynonna turned, and used her so much harder to hide baby-belly to bump Nicole off balance. 

She fell backwards, disappearing into the tall grass, with an audible ‘Oof!’ and a lightness in her heart despite it’s aching. 

“With great belly comes great responsibility. Last one to the tent has a soggy bottom!”

Despite the strain of not knowing where she stood with the love of her life, Nicole still had the Bake Off tent and all the other friends and family she had made there, and she still had the force of nature that was Wynonna Freaking Earp to hold onto. 

She still had her best friend.  
  


(*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ ┌iii┐  
  


 **EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** Randy Nedley sits on the stone wall near the Crofte Estate stream, exactly where Waverly was fond of doing her Bake Off interviews. 

**NEDLEY  
** This is what the Bake Off competition does, you know. It takes strangers, some of us more lonely and lost than we can even express to ourselves, and makes family out of us. You see those picnic tables over there?

Nedley points behind him in the vague direction of the tent.

Three of those are for the James family alone.

 **CUT. TO LAWN OUTSIDE TENT  
** Champ gambols about like a boy half his age, with several grinning young men who all looked like carbon copies of him. He jumps on the back of one shorter blond boy before being tackled to the ground by another. He lets out a silent wail before punching a third James in the solar plexus while a fourth surprises him from behind.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
He’s a lucky son of a gun that one. And Ambrose has the most delightful young children and husband whom I know he cherishes with every inch of his being.

 **CUT. TO LAWN OUTSIDE TENT  
** Past the picnic tables, Fish and Levi chase their sons across the lawn in a family game of tag.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
But most of us here have so few people. I have my daughter. Mattie has her sister.

 **CUT. TO SIDE OF TENT  
** Chrissy Nedley talks animatedly to Mattie Perley while her sister Gretta looks on, clearly both annoyed and bored.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
Jeremy only has his father.

An older man, the spitting image of Jeremy but with salt and pepper hair, joins their conversation.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
Doc’s beloved mother was almost too ill to be here with him today.

 **PAN. ACROSS TENT  
** Doc pushes his smiling but clearly sick mother across a specially laid out path, making the lawn wheelchair accessible. She is briefly wracked by a coughing fit, causing Doc to drop to the ground, resting his hands on her knees until she regains her composure. His mother gently pats him on the cheek, and smiles proudly.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
Some of us are bound to each other only by our circumstance.

Kate sweeps into view with a small cadre of friends who all look like they’re dressed for a European rave rather than a genteel family picnic. They are followed by Bunny and a few besuited individuals, one of whom is wearing an ostentatious mayoral chain.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
Or shared experiences.

 **CUT. TO LAWN ON OPPOSITE SIDE OF TENT  
** Dolls and his service buddies are setting up a game of lawn cricket which all the children present stare in awe at.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
And others still, have no one left to share this amazing journey with. No one but each other.

 **CUT. TO WIDER FIELD  
** Nicole and Wynonna have their arms over each other's shoulders. They walk towards the tent through the long grass of the wider field.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
It’s the families we choose that so often make life the rich experience it is, don’t you think? That’s what the Great British-Columbia Bake Off does. It brings people together.

With smiles on their faces, Wynonna and Nicole break apart to hug a gamboling Jeremy who has run up to them like an excitable younger brother.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
It changes lives.

The three finalists finally arrive at the edge of the tent. Jeremy reaches for Robin's hand before turning towards his father. He introduces Nicole, then Wynonna who both politely shake his hand.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Continues in voiceover)  
It makes families.

Jeremy then introduces Robin. His father takes Robin’s proffered hand but pulls the sandy-haired man in for a full body hug of welcome. 

**CUT. TO BRIDGE  
** Randy Nedley, sits on the stone wall of the bridge over the stream.

 **NEDLEY  
** (Emotional)  
It made us all who we are today. It made us better people. It made us… whole. And that’s all I have to say about that.

He looks at his feet, unwilling to let any more emotion show, but we can see, as the audience, a tear has escaped and is making a run for his moustache.  
  


╰(*´︶`*)╯♡┌iii┐  
  


 **BAKE OFF TENT  
** **SUNDAY**

Nicole cast her eyes around the brightly lit Bake Off tent as she tried to calm the nerves gradually seeping from her chest down her arms into her fingertips. The tingle and dull ache in her injured arm reminded her how much more work remained in front of her, to heal in more ways than one.

She sighed into the silence, barely noticing the fidgeting of the other bakers or the soft calling from the Bulshar camera crew as they finished setting up the opening shot. Instead, Nicole reached for her anchor, Gizmo’s charred recipe book.

For the finale Showstopper, Nicole would once again be baking a recipe she had adapted from within its well-worn pages. It was all she could think about. Getting it right, making it perfect. Winning meant nothing to her, only doing justice to the meaning behind her design. 

“Good Morning Bakers!”

Startled, Nicole was pulled from her reverie by Mel’s enthusiastic voice, completely unaware that filming had started. She quickly pulled her hand back, as if she’d been caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Here we are at last. The final day of the final week and your final Showstopper challenge. Ten weeks of tough competition, disasters and triumphs, injuries and flames, whiskey and doughnuts and it all comes down to this.” Sue continued the presenter's opening monologue but Nicole’s attention was soon diverted. 

She seemed utterly unable to concentrate as they spoke, instead casting her gaze around the tent. The garlands around the roof she had once thought were twee fluttered in the gentle breeze reminding her of butterflies in the nearby garden. Waverly had been fascinated by them and had made her sit among the grass several times, in silent hope that the delicate creatures might come closer for her to see.

“For your final bake, Mary and Paul would like you to create the ultimate, perfect, quadruple-tiered celebration cake. It must be baked to perfection, flavoured expertly and make them want to go back for more long after they know they should have stopped.”

Nicole next took in the almost expertly schooled faces of her friends. Wynonna stood, slightly slouched, her weight on one foot like nothing in the universe mattered. Her eyes were neither (cold) or (unconditional), instead, a fractionally larger proportion of white was showing. Nicole didn’t think she had ever looked more afraid. Jeremy’s eyes were more obviously widened, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for the nervous young man. What Nicole noticed was how still his arms were. Normally given to movement to work through his nerves, Jeremy was instead stock still. A moose caught in headlights.

“Not only that…” Mel continued. “...the judges want to be moved by your bake. They want to see not only the perfect balance of flavours but the perfect balance of ideas, they want your cake to inspire them by telling them a story all about who inspires you.”

_Who inspires me._

_Everyone here knows who inspires me._

Nicole’s thoughts turned solemn. As soon as she had seen the specifications for the final Showstopper, Nicole knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew what cake she would bake, what flavours, the dimensions, every detail of the decorations instantly forming in her mind. Even the exact sentences she would write in Gizmo’s book had arrived perfectly in her mind as soon as she finished reading the email.

Now she would have to actually bake it for real and she was going to have to talk about her inspiration on television. When it was broadcast, everyone would see. Everyone would see exactly how completely in love with Waverly Earp she was.

_And she’s… gone._

_Waverly..._

_What have I done?_

“You have four hours to create a tower of inspiration for us all. So, without further adieu. For the last time. On your marks!” 

“Get set!”

“BAKE!”

The bustling from the bakers began immediately, as did the Bulshar crew setting up for the pre-baking workstation interviews. Finally, Nicole found herself able to move. In comparison to her friends, who scrambled with unparalleled earnestness to make every second of the four hours count, Nicole was slow. Ordering her ingredients, into groups, pre-measuring each facet of each stage was the only way she could still her whirling thoughts long enough to concentrate on what she was doing. Until she overheard Mary and Paul begin the interviews. Then, all her hard won concentration abandoned her.

“Good Morning Jeremy!” Paul’s enthusiastic greeting carried through the tent. “Please tell us about your bake.”

“Wassup my peeps! Sorry! Bit nervous. Uh, my celebration cake is called ‘Butterfly Waves’. It’s four tiers of vegan sponges with alternating citrus flavours decorated with intricate spun sugar, chocolate and gumpaste Butterflies.”

“Vegan.” Paul’s disappointed voice carried through to Nicole despite the fact that she had dropped a jar of flour loudly onto her workbench after Jeremy had revealed _that_ name for his bake.

_He hasn’t… has he?_

“And the story?” Mary prompted while Nicole tried to look surreptitiously over her shoulder while still weighing out the flour she needed for her own cake.

“Okay, so each tier and each flavour represents a time I was encouraged to step out of my comfort zone and really, actually, do what The Rock would do. This bottom layer is Kumquat and pear. It reminds me of when Waverly encouraged me to relax and be myself during the filming auditions months ago. The next one is finger lime meringue, for the day I was practicing my meringues and she texted me, telling me to ask my boyfriend out….”

Paul interrupted. “Wait. This cake is a Waverly cake. Bake Off Waverly is your inspiration.” He deadpanned, expression so blank it was hard not to interpret it as annoyance.

“Not ‘Bake Off’ Waverly. Just… Waverly. She’s my inspirational friend.

Nicole’s ears were ringing in her head. Jeremy was making a Waverly inspired cake.

_Oh my god… this isn’t happening..._

Nicole shook her head quietly from side to side. She was so lost in listening to Jeremy’s description that she didn’t notice Wynonna sidling up behind her.

“What’s going on?” She whispered conspiratorially. “I take one piss break and I come back to find you looking like the stick up your butt finally exploded and you forgot to wear your brown pants.”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what.”

“Jeremy’s cake is inspired by Waverly.” She replied softly.

“Get out!” Wynonna called out, swifty abandoning Nicole to join Jeremy at his station. “Mine’s a Waverly cake too!”

Nicole’s thoughts turned to goo in an instant.

 _“Is this real life?”_ Nicole whispered as the scene played out before her.

“Whaaaat?” Jeremy was grinning as he turned around. “No way!”

“Uh, yes way. Looks like baby girl made it to the final anyway!”

“Alright, thank you Jeremy.” Paul sighed “We’d better move on and find out how Wynonna has managed to forgo the whiskey to make her cake entirely vegan too.”

“Bish, please. This entire thing is soaked in alternating layers of whiskey drizzle and Japanese vodka, and it is vegan actually. It’s vegan FOR FREEDOM. Freedom of poor widdle fwuffy animals everywhere. Because Waverly would kick my ass if I didn’t. She’s tiny, but feisty. Right Haught?”

Nicole stared blankly at her friend.

“She gets it. Anyway, my four-tiered cake in honour of my absent sister is called ‘Peacemaker’. All four tiers have a silvered glaze with blue, white, and orange details that are the glyphs from the secret language Waverly made up when we were kids. Hopefully they won’t pool together too much and you’ll be able to read my message to my sister across the top one.

“Can you tell us what the message says?”

Nicole could _hear_ the smirk in Wynonna’s voice as she held up a sketch of the cake and answered. “Yeah, it says ‘We is the team’ because we are. We Earps have been on our own for a long time. Waverly is my wingwoman, you know. She keeps me grounded. Functional. Present. She’s totally my inspiration even if I don’t tell her as often as I should.”

“Well, it’s certainly a unique and interesting concept. You’ve given yourself a lot to do.”

“Yeah I have. So scram Paul, go bother Haught-cakes”

_Oh._

_Oh. Fuck_

_They’re walking over here right now._

_Bulshar’s here._

_They’re talking._

_They’re waiting for me to talk now._

_Start talking._

_Please start talking now._

_Brain? Are you there? It’s me Nicole..._

“Good Morning Nicole…” Paul opened, but Nicole didn’t react. 

She was stuck, well and truly, staring into the middle distance.

“Nicole? Can you tell us about your final bake?” Mary prompted, but still no reaction, until a single word bubbled forward. Unbidden and unexpected. Nicole didn’t immediately recognise that her own mouth had issued it until she said it again, and again.

“Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuuuuck.” 

“Fuck?” Snapping back to reality in shock at that word uttered from Mary Berry’s mouth, Nicole’s eyes widened in alarm before flicking over to Wynonna. She looked quizzically back while she opened her oven, her first vodka soaked sponge already set for baking. Wynonna simply said “Fuck?” back to her.

Their eyes locked. Nicole still couldn’t move.

“Oh, tell me you didn’t.” Wynonna’s body sagged as she realised the source of Nicole’s distress. “Yours is a Waverly cake too?”

All Nicole could do was nod.

“This is what happens when we don’t communicate” Jeremy piped up from behind Nicole, shrinking away as Paul turned his cool-blue stare on the smaller man.

“What the hell, Haught?” Wynonna abandoned her station and stalked towards her. “I thought you were doing your Gizmo’s recipe?” 

“I was… I… am. It’s an adaptation but the inspiration is Waverly. It’s… it’s four tiers of Orchid decorated cake!”

“Haught that is the most lesbian thing I have ever heard.” She leaned over to look at the sketch Nicole had made showing the planned unfurled petal decorations she would soon be painstakingly air-brushing patterns on.

“Holy shit. That’s actually beautiful Haughtshot. You’re so gay for her aren’t you.” Wynonna whispered quietly.

“Yeah, but…”

“No butts. Not even mine. This is awesome, Nicole. She’ll love it.”

“You think so?” Nicole asked. “I can make up some other story. To protect her…”

“Don’t you dare. This is your design. She’s your inspiration. She’s all our inspiration and that is that. Paul can SUCK IT!”

“Suck what?” Paul asked, exasperated. “Look, I can’t believe I have to say this, but this isn’t the Waverly show.” Paul muttered while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well it is today, Paul. I think it’s delightful.”

_Bless you Mary_

“You’ve all been through so much since joining us here in the tent. You’ve all found life long friendship, love and acceptance. I for one feel blessed to have been a small part of it.”

“Hear hear!” Sue piped up from the fringes.

“So it’s Waverly cakes all round, get over it Paul.” Mel chimed in, shoulder bumping him out of the way. “Shall we do a reset?” She called out to the Bulshar crew but she was looking at Nicole for confirmation, clearly seeking her consent to get on with the filming.

“Yeah, let’s do this. I’m ready.” She smiled at everyone but Paul.

“Fine, fine.” Paul muttered grumpily again. Nicole had to suck her lips in to stop smirking this time as Wynonna used her hand and her tongue in her cheek to mime something that told everyone who witnessed it exactly what Wynonna thought Paul could go and suck.

“Okay. From the top. Good morning Nicole. Tell us about your bake please.”  
  


(๑•́ _ •̀๑) ┌iii┐  
  


 **INT. BAKE OFF JUDGES TENT.  
** A light breeze tumbles through the small judge’s marquee where Mary and Paul sit with Mel and Sue for the final judgement of the competition. 

**PAUL  
** I have to say, I will always be impressed by both Nicole and Jeremy. To get as far as they have while carrying significantly debilitating injuries is a testament to their deep knowledge of baking and to their organisational and time management skills.

 **MEL  
** And Wynonna?

 **PAUL  
** Wynonna is one of those very special individuals. What she lacks in organisation she makes up for in raw talent and flair. She’s also cool under pressure. I don’t think I saw her get truly flustered by any situation that went wrong for her.

 **SUE  
** So It’s a tough decision?

 **PAUL  
** (Looking to Mary who nods her agreement)  
Yeah, I think so, but I also think I know who it should be. I just need to have one more conversation with Mary, to make sure we’re on the same page.  
  


(－‸ლ) ┌iii┐  
  


The roar as the three finalists exited the tent was one of the most intense moments of Nicole’s life. There were only sixty or so people in the garden but the noise they produced made her feel a little like a rock star. Jeremy seemed to pale beside her and his feet stumbled as they walked closer to the crowd clapping and cheering for them. It even affected Wynonna, as despite the noise, Nicole heard the tiny ‘ _Jesus, fucking coconuts’_ that tumbled from her mouth.

They were soon mobbed by the other bakers, who took their sample bakes away and led them back to the tables for the benefit of the camera crew getting the wide shots they needed for the final broadcast.

Nicole had never been hugged so many times in succession in her life. All the bakers offered her one, even Bunny and Champ, smiling and performing collegiality in full view of the cameras. She got two from Doc as Wynonna managed to duck and weave away from having any contact with him at all.

Last of all, Nedley approached, placing both his hands on her shoulders with the softest look on his face, and the barest hint of a tear in his eye.

The judges emerged from the tent carrying three huge bouquets of flowers and the coveted glass cake stand.

“We’re up! Let’s do this!” Wynonna launched herself from the table, grabbing Jeremy by the collar and Nicole by her good arm. She more or less manhandled them to their mark, helpfully spray painted into the grass so they would be standing in the perfect spot for Bulshar.

Mel and Sue warmed the crowd up with a few jokes while the Judges set themselves up on their own mark, the crew fussing to stop the flowers obscuring faces. So they had a few nervous minutes to themselves, excruciatingly in the eye of everyone’s attention. They stood, waiting with nervous energy. Jeremy started swinging his arms and Nicole could tell he was trying to commune with his inner Dwayne Johnston. Wynonna had started clicking her finger joints. Nicole, however, was still. Her nerves washed through her, like sea foam beached on a shore, washed back by the tide in a steady, unceasing rhythm.

It had all come down to this. 

This moment, the culmination of ten weeks of baking, learning, growing and loving. From hours spent watching the show before her Mom died, to hours being the one in the tent making the show for some other family to bond over. Nicole had done it. She had completed the second to last thing on her Mom’s bucket list. She only had the goat farm to go, and she was working on that with the help of a pair of wonderful women called Earp, and friends she already knew would remain life-long. Jeremy, Nedley, Dolls, hell - even Mercedes. They had all changed her so profoundly, that for the first time in a long time, she didn’t wonder what her Mom would have thought of it all. 

“Guys? Whatever happens, I just want you to know…”

“Fuck off Haughtshit! You are NOT about to give us the ‘We’re all winners’, speech, okay? Fuck that. We were all winners the day we fuckin’ met, so no schmaltzy bullshit. Not on my watch.”

“Isn’t that just the Earp version of ‘the real prize is the friends we made along the way’ schmaltzy bullshit?” Jeremy asked innocently, causing Nicole to snort inelegantly. 

“Shut your pie-hole.” Wynonna replied, grabbing both Jeremy and Nicole around the shoulders, bringing them into a hug. They remained that way, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, as the presenters and judges set themselves and the director called them all to attention. 

It was time. 

Mel and Sue had done their introduction. 

The judges were steeled. 

Mary took a step forward, holding out the cake stand with a brilliant smile lighting up her face as Sue made the announcement they were all waiting for.

“And the winner of the 2019 Great British-Columbia Bake Off, is…”  
  


┌iii┐٩(。◕‿◕)۶ (っ◕‿◕.ς) ٩(◕‿◕。)۶┌iii┐ 

**INT. JEREMY’S FATHER’S HOME  
** Dressed more formally than most people would in their own kitchen, Jeremy’s father, Shikar, appears relaxed, sitting at his dining table. He smiles as he speaks about his son, fingers absent-mindedly tweaking the ends of his carefully groomed, dainty moustache.

 **SHIKAR  
** You know, we lost everyone when Jeremy was young, but my son is a fighter. He is filled with a passion for life, for his friends, for everything he sets out to achieve. So, of course I am proud of him! That is a very silly question. Look at him! 

Shot focus changes to the background where we can see a totally focussed Jeremy kneading bread dough with one hand. He’s dancing as he kneads, to a beat only he can hear through his large white headphones.

 **JEREMY  
** (Singing quietly as he dances)  
I think it went oh, oh, oh. I think it went yeah, yeah, yeah. I think it goes…

Shot focus returns to Shikar, who sighs as only a Dad who respects but doesn’t understand their kids interests can.

**CUT. TO JEREMY SITTING OUTSIDE**

**JEREMY  
** (Bashful)  
Do I wanna win Bake Off? Of course. You wouldn’t be here if on some level you weren’t desperate to win, right. But now that I’m here and it’s possible? Well, I’d be more than happy to see Wynonna or Nicole lift the cake stand. They’re my friends. I love them so hard. So hard. Oh, but not like _that._ Um, can I do this over?

 **CUT. INT. PURGATORY HIGH GYMNASIUM  
** An all-school assembly is taking place and Wynonna is giving a lecture with puppets and powerpoint to 100 bored students.

 **WYNONNA  
** (Speaking though the microphone on the lectern)  
Consent goes more than two ways, okay? So, like, if you’re going to make your dorm mates listen to all the disgustingly hot pre-marital sex you’ll be having it’s just common decency to buy them ear plugs. You’re going to college but that’s no reason to be assholes.

**CUT. EXT. GYMNASIUM**

**WYNONNA  
** They love me here. Especially the teachers. What up Mrs D!

Wynonna calls out to a very prim looking woman walking into the background of the shot. She walks like someone who knows she has no power other than the heat generated by her stare of disapproval.

 **WYNONNA  
** (Winking to camera)  
Her name’s actually Mrs Woodhead, but I call her Mrs. D. You know. For reasons.

 **CUT. EXT. SCIENCE BLOCK  
** A clearly reluctant teen, arms folded across her ‘lobotomy’ tee shirt, a ‘fuck this’ attitude plastered to her face, huffs softly as she’s forced to speak.

 **RACHEL  
** (casting glances off camera as if she’s receiving prompts)  
Okay, so Ms. Earp is like… totally stable, and… the whole town is like, _super_ proud of her and stuff. We all know she’s gonna win Bake Off. That’s a thing that can totally happen.

Wynonna pushes Rachel half out of shot while thrusting a wad of cash over to the disinterested teen.

 **WYNONNA  
** Oh-ho-kay, Smalldez, that’ll do it. Thanks for your input and whatnot. 

**RACHEL  
** (Deadpan)  
This is American money. What do you expect me to do with this?

Wynonna rolls her eyes while snatching back the cash. She digs around in her back pocket until she pulls out a crumpled Tim Horton’s loyalty card. Rachel snatches it like it was made of gold. 

**WYNONNA  
** (Incredulous)  
Hey! That thing is full! Tell your Mom to reply to my tweets!

Wynonna calls out uselessly to the rapidly departing teen before turning back to camera.

There goes my free fifty pack of Timbits. Freakin’ teenagers… What? You’ve been filming me for ten weeks. You know what you're getting now you’ve bought the damn cow. I don’t know why you bothered schlepping all the way up to Purgatory anyway. Who ‘round here is gonna say they think the Earp voted ‘Jon Snow in a ‘B’ cup’ could win the Bake Off if I don’t pay? Me?

Wynonna folds her arms and is silent for a second before a light goes off in her eyes.

Oh. Yeah, well. Pfft. My will is a stone-cold, be-mulleted iron woman. On steroids. Of course I could win it. Duh.

 **CUT. INT. NICOLE’S VANCOUVER APARTMENT  
** The space is packed up, moving boxes stacked high near the door. Only the couch remains of her furniture. Nicole sits on it and sighs, looking around the apartment. She smiles wanly.

 **NICOLE  
** Winning? Well I have to admit, I’m ready for it to be over, yeah. Bake Off has been such a wonderful rollercoaster but it’s time to move on you know? I guess, I’m saying my journey isn't over ‘till my heart stops beating so I’m off on my next big adventure - to a small town in the middle of nowhere where the goats roam free and I might finally win the love of… my cat.

Nicole looks around the room as if she might find Calamity Jane, even though she’s still at the Homestead.

Seriously, I used to have a cat but Wynonna stole her. I’m not even kidding. Calamity Jane’s an Earp now.

Wynonna appears suddenly in shot, flopping down next to Nicole on the couch. She holds up her hand for a high-five that Nicole pointedly ignores.

 **WYNONNA  
** (Excited)  
Hell yeah she is! Heyo!

 **NICOLE  
** (Trying not to look annoyed with her friend)  
Aren’t you supposed to be _helping_?

 **CUT. TO WIDE SHOT  
** Nicole and Wynonna are trying to move the couch through the open front door but can’t organise themselves to complete the relatively simple task.

 **NICOLE  
** (Now unable to contain her annoyance)  
Push with your ass! 

**WYNONNA  
** (Similarly afflicted)  
Shut up with your mouth!  
  


( ╯°□°)╯ ┳┻━┻┳ 凸(` ﾛ ´҂)  
  
  


 **AUTUMN  
** **Nicole’s House in Purgatory  
** **TWO WEEKS POST BIRTH  
** **Three days before Finale broadcast**

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh, my _GOD!_?”

“WHAT!”

“For the love of Alanis Morrisette…” Waverly said under her breath.

“What is it!?” Nicole asked, intrigued beyond reason because she couldn’t see Waverly’s face. Partly because she was hiding a decorated cake behind a partition in her kitchen, and partly because Waverly was holding the magazine she was reading from so close to her face anyone would assume she needed glasses.

Nicole abandoned her tools and moved around her kitchen island just as Waverly turned the magazine around to show her the article. “Look who got an ‘ _OK! Canada_ ’ exclusive!”

She was confronted by an image of Champ Hardy sitting on the arm of a couch that also contained Bunny Loblaw. Her hand rested possessively on his thigh while he gazed adoringly at her. Bunny was staring right into the camera and therefore looked as though she could see directly into Nicole’s soul. She repressed a shudder at the way the older woman’s piercing gaze seemed to have life, like at any moment Bunny’s eyes would become more animal-like and actually blaze demonically red from the pages.

“Listen to this…”

Waverly turned the magazine back, the pages crinkling as she held it tightly in disbelief. “ _Do you feel judgement from your community for being in an unconventional relationship?_ ” She read, incredulous. “ _Yeah, we cop a bit of flack but you know, love is love, right?_ ”

“The fucking _audacity_!” Nicole was aghast. 

“Right?” Waverly replied, before continuing to read aloud. “‘ _Star of the upcoming baking show ‘Hardy Eats’...”_

“Is that seriously what they’re calling it? ‘‘Hardy Yeets’?”

“No, silly.” Waverly replied, her tone indicating complete awareness of Nicole’s deliberate miscomprehension. 

“Shame. I’d watch the shit outta that show.”

“Actually, yeah. So would I.” Waverly grinned. “Anyway, _‘Star of the upcoming baking show ‘Hardy Eats’, Hardy ‘Champ’ James has come full circle from naive young rodeo champion and amateur baker to fully fledged social media influencer and underwear model.”_

“Gack.” Nicole mimed choking on her own bile, her face scrunching up with distaste.

Waverly sighed, throwing the magazine nonchalantly behind her. “I know, but still. It’s hard to be unkind. Incredulous maybe, but…good for them?” Despite her words, Waverly sounded as convinced as Paul Hollywood of the merits of veganism.

“I mean, yeah? I guess?” Nicole replied, screwing her face up a little bit tighter as she forced the words out. “I suppose everyone deserves to find love…”

Nicole flicked her eyes briefly to Waverly, still expecting to see hints of the cloud that so often passed over her face at the mere mention of the ‘L’ word. Perhaps it would manifest this time as a drop of sparkle from her eyes, maybe a ghost of a frown, but instead, Nicole saw none of Waverly’s small tells that gave away the presence of unwelcome memories. The sparkle in her eyes was still there. The only wrinkle on her face was attached to her mouth as she offered a wry smile in response to Nicole’s insincerity.

Nicole wasn’t sure why she was surprised to see such an open, undogged expression on Waverly’s face, because the past twelve days after her return to Purgatory had been the most hopeful of Nicole’s life. 

The night after Alice’s birth, the pair had agreed to have dinner together, at the Homestead. With Wynonna spending a final night in hospital and Doc attending to her every need, they knew they would get few opportunities once baby chaos descended.

So they had talked and talked and talked, long into the night. 

Nicole learned all about Waverly’s sailing lessons, the running of Mattie’s forge, and the quirky personalities of the Sooke Coven Waverly had fallen in with. Waverly had also asked for her permission to dedicate a chapter of her book to Gizmo’s recipes, a request Nicole granted without hesitation. She had watched with pride as Waverly sent off an email confirmation of the final edit of the book to her publishers.

Then she learned about the night Waverly’s father died, the terrible things her older sister had been allowed to get away with, and the love and redemption Waverly had found in the house of her Aunt and Uncle in the years afterwards. Nicole learned about how new and tenuous the Earp sister relationship had been when they had first locked eyes at the regional auditions, how recently Wynonna had returned to Purgatory and reclaimed her birthright in the Homestead, how they had both determined to rewrite the memories of the past and make a home together on their land.

Mostly, Nicole learned how strong Earps are and how lucky she felt to know them.

When Nicole finally left late in the night, there was a playful lightness to them that belied how heavy the topics of conversation had been. They both seemed content to take things deliberately slowly, to spend more time on the foundations of them this time around. Without the pressures of the tent it felt like they had all the time in the world.

“Like homemade versus store bought pastry.” Waverly had smiled in the moonlight at her that night as they walked back over the stony gravel towards the cruiser. “We’ve got time to properly add the layers.”

“Are you comparing us to flaky pastry?” Nicole had teased.

“Oh no. No way. We’re just moving up in the world. From rough puff to full puff.” Waverly teased right back before changing the subject, the lightness in her eyes singing a song to Nicole that soothed and calmed far more than any of the words they had so far spoken.

“Come pick me up tomorrow afternoon? We can go get the car seat ‘Nonna needs and head up to the hospital?”

“Absolutely. Because I am _not_ letting John Henry Holliday drive a baby around in that piece of shit car until he has passed his licence, I swear to god.” 

Nicole had grinned at Waverly one final time and then driven away. She had felt like she was floating, and she realised just how much hurt, longing and guilt she had simply dropped overboard throughout the course of the night.

When they wrangled a few hours together again later in the week, It had been Nicole’s turn to share. She had talked about her grandmother’s illness, her runaway teenages years and the deep and profound sense of loss she had been living with since her mother left. She also told Waverly about finally making the call to Dr Lesko the week after Bake Off ended and how important continuing those therapy sessions were to her, especially now that she had come back into her life. A fact that Waverly had not only accepted, but encouraged.

All in all, it had been an amazing couple of weeks. Nicole knew where she stood with Waverly because they had mutually agreed to put their relationship in a warming drawer, to allow it to properly prove. 

All they needed was time.

And now Waverly Earp was in her kitchen, in Purgatory, reading trashy magazines while Nicole decorated the world’s most obnoxious cake for her sister.

“Yup. Even assholes deserve to find love. Maybe even lost souls who behave like assholes deserve to re-find it?” Waverly asked softly, but the light remained like the sun shining after a summer squall.

It drew Nicole in like no other force in the universe. They had been so careful with each other. A few barely there touches spread throughout their brief moments together, but there was something about the way Waverly bit her lip, like she was trying to decide if this was a ‘talk more’ moment, a ‘wait now’ moment or a ‘do something’ moment. It had Nicole taking a half step towards her, and gently enfolding her in her arms without hesitation.

Waverly’s face buried itself in her chest, her arms squeezing tightly, fingers gripping the back of shirt. Nicole couldn’t help it. She kissed the top of Waverly’s head, inhaling in the comforting homely scent of her hair. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Waves.” She asked gently as she felt Waverly’s arms pull tighter still. This was another welcome change since Waverly’s return from exile. Nicole knew, if she asked, Waverly would answer.

“I’m thinking… well, to be honest I’m thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing you in your Vancouver kitchen and that we haven’t christened your Purgatory one yet.”

Nicole smiled into Waverly’s hair at the confession.

“And?” she prompted, causing Waverly to sigh.

“And, I was thinking, really rather a lot, about fixing that state of affairs but… I know we aren’t ‘there’ yet and…”

Nicole leaned away, firmly. “Hey. The only place we ‘are’, is here. Now.” She brushed her thumbs across Waverly’s cheeks and leaned down to place a soft kiss to Waverly’s lips. It remained soft, welcoming and reconnecting. A kiss that acted like a survey peg - a stake in the ground. Their ground. Their future.

“Oh… Wow.”

“Hmmm.” Was all Nicole could think of to reply. Words seemed inadequate for the feeling of being in love with Waverly Earp.

“So, um…” Waverly equally seemed unable to find the ‘words’ part of her brain. It would’ve been useless even if she had been able to find it, because her face was smiling so broadly it would surely have been impossible to speak.

Nicole kissed her again, and again it was soft, unhurried and spoke to many future kisses in Nicole’s kitchen to come. Their noses brushed as the kiss ended, Nicole placing the final stop with a kiss to Waverly’s forehead. Nicole knew to the very bones of her, that it meant as much to Waverly as it did to her. So she felt relaxed and confident to return to the subject at hand, knowing there would always be more. More space, more air and most importantly, more time. 

Nicole backed away a little, keeping a hold of Waverly’s hand until both their arms ran out of length and they had to let go. They smiled, almost shyly at each other at reaching another important milestone in their rebuilding. 

“Okay, so. It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time for the cake reveal of course. You baked it and I decorated it. So now I present to you…”. As she spoke, Nicole raised the cake on a transfer pan and slid it onto a revolving cake stand, then whipped away the partition to reveal the design Nicole had spent the last two hours making out of marzipan, gum paste and food colouring. “Wynonna’s ‘Ooop, there goes my perineum’ celebration cake.”

Waverly’s breath hitched, her hands flew to her mouth, covering her reaction so Nicole wasn’t sure if she was shocked or horrified. “You can NOT give this to Wynonna.”

“Really? Why not?” To say Nicole was disappointed would be underselling the depth of emotion she felt, until she realised Waverly’s shoulders were shaking with the effort she was expending not to laugh out loud. Which was the reaction she had been hoping for all along.

“I thought it was funny! Tell me you think it’s funny too! I need to hear you say it!”

“Oh, baby it’s definitely funny… oh. Uh, sorry. It kind of slipped out.”

“Baby. You know I like that, Waves.” Before she knew it, Nicole found herself back around the kitchen island, taking Waverly into her arms. “Kind of hope you’ll keep saying it.”

“Then I will. Baby.” The shy smiles were back, but Nicole felt nothing but joy.

“Are we flirting?” Waverly asked, without even the barest hint of innocence.

“Always.” She replied as she exhaled with contentment. “But tell me, why can’t we give the cake to Wynonna? I want to see her face!”

“Oh, she’ll see it. Because we _have_ to take it with us to Extra Slice!”

“We do?”

“Yes! Because it’s _perfect_.”

“I know.” Nicole smiled smugly, looking down at the cake, which depicted the face of a smiling, moustachioed baby emerging from a crowned vagina, complete with bushy outer labia.

“Speaking of Extra Slice…” Nicole disappeared briefly into the living room before returning with a plain, unmarked DVD case. Inside was a disc with _GBCBO ‘19 finale_ written in black marker pen. 

“Oh, my god! You seriously got a bootleg copy of the final!?” Waverly grabbed the case from her hand in excitement.

“Yeah, but Robin will literally lose his job if anyone ever finds out he did this for us. He thought we should watch it before we drive down to Vancouver so we’re all on the same page.”

It made sense to forewarn her, Nicole knew it did, but this was the part of their day she had been most dreading. Everything before this had been lightness and air, smiles and flirting, tiny moments slowly building on top of each other as each day after Alice’s birth brought the pair closer together. Closer to healing the chasm of unspoken words with honesty and raw vulnerability. But once Waverly saw it, once she saw just how much she featured in the final without ever being there, when she saw what they had all done just because of her, Nicole wouldn’t be able to take any of it back. She didn’t want to either. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this!” Waverly almost squealed. “Remind me to call Robin later to thank him. I have to be honest, I was a little worried about taking Wynonna’s place on Extra Slice without knowing beforehand who won.”

Nicole felt her jaw slacken in surprise. “You… you don’t know who won? How can you not know?” 

“Literally no one has talked to me about the show since I got back. No one in town but you, Doc and Wynonna knows anyway.”

“They haven’t said?” Nicole asked, truly incredulous that no one had let it slip before now.

“Well, they have been a little busy, I guess.” Waverly smiled, shrugging her shoulders like neither of them had taken a small amount of secret pleasure in watching both Doc and Wynonna blossom as new parents whilst also suffering from the inevitable culture shock a newborn infant introduces. 

“Okay, well you’re in for a treat then because I honestly have no idea how they’re going to cut the Showstopper together to make a coherent sequence.”

“Let me guess. There was fire.”

“Oh, always.”

“Of course.” Waverly shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s do this! My first episode watch! This is so exciting!” She clapped her hands together with the case, dancing on the spot and spinning in a little circle before hopping away into the living room to find the TV.

Nicole followed, a few steps behind with a smile on her face for Waverly’s unabashed adorableness and a flutter of nervous energy throwing off the steady beat of her heart.  
  


(´·д·`)   
  


Watching the show with Waverly instead of Wynonna was certainly an experience.

Whereas Wynonna commented on every scene like she was watching ice hockey, Waverly watched largely in silence, her rapt attention only breaking when she couldn’t contain her laughter. Nicole thought she might never stop after the opening scene showed the three finalists entering the tent for the Signature Challenge wearing huge false moustaches in honour of Nedley.

The mere sound of it set fire to every nerve in Nicole’s body, dampening the fizz of anxiety she was experiencing, but it always returned, redoubled and metastasized as the show counted down through the first judgements and the Technical segments. The revelation of the Showstopper bakes was as inevitable as the pull of the tide.

Nicole watched Waverly’s face as Jeremy discussed finding his feet in the tent and his friendship with Waverly being a huge part of that journey. The complexity of emotions, the openness Nicole could see as Waverly let herself feel them all at once poured another anxiety quashing wave over her soul, only for it to pitch back with renewed vigour as the show turned its attention to Wynonna’s bake.

“Oh, that giant shit-ticket!” 

Waverly’s sudden expletive startled a laugh from Nicole as Waverly paused the show and grabbed her phone. She had facetime open and a video call going through to Wynonna before Nicole could even blink.

“You giant shit-ticket!” Waverly repeated when Wynonna’s tired face appeared on the screen, tilted slightly because she was bent over the kitchen table, a cup of something Nicole hoped was just decaf nestled close to her face.

 _The fuck, babygirl_? Her voice was tired, possibly even slightly emotional. 

“That cake says ‘Paul is a dickbiscuit’ not ‘we is the team’!”

_Yeah, but only you and Haught know that so…_

“Wait, how come you know that Nicole knows how to read Peacemaker?”

With that simple question, Nicole knew it was time to take some very important steps towards the kitchen, because there was no way in hell she was going to be sitting next to Waverly while Wynonna answered that question.

“I’m just gonna grab a glass of water…” Nicole whispered “...and then maybe some tea. You want tea? I can make tea. So yeah. I’m gonna make tea.” She pointed uselessly at the kitchen.

_Waverly I hate to break it to you but sometimes. Sometimes. Your girlfriend drinks, and when she does she tells me exceptionally explicit and PRIVATE details about how erotic learning a new language can be when the love of your life teaches you by drawing on your naked back."_

Wynonna’s voice became background noise as Nicole quickly turned on the tap and drank an entire glass of water in one breath while Bobo the plant stared in judgement at her for hiding out in the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah. So says you and your mohawk.” She muttered at him, before flipping on the kettle and pulling down an array of teas she knew Waverly liked. 

The fizzy feeling was back with a vengeance. Waverly had been moved by Jeremy’s cake and annoyed by Wynonna’s. How was she going to feel when she saw that the entire last segment of the show was about her? 

“Hey, Bobo? What do I do if the cloud comes back?” Nicole whispered as if she was attending confession. “What do I do if… if it’s too much again, and…”

Nicole chanced a peek through the doorway towards Waverly.

_You haven’t watched past my bake yet, have you?_

She heard Wynonna ask, despite her voice being pitched more quietly. She saw Waverly hunch over as if to hear better.

“Uh, no. Why?” 

_Get off the phone baby girl, before Nicole has an aneurysm._

“Uh, okay. Should I be worried”

_No. I don’t think you should ever be worried about your stupidly loyal, stupidly romantic and stupidly stupid girlfriend Waverly. Just watch the damn show. Tell Nicole I’ll book the steam-cleaners for her couch because I’m not visiting with a baby until…”_

“What? Should I not be sitting on it, or…”

_Babygirl, it’s for after you watch it. Trust me. It’s gonna need a deep pile cleanse after you jump her…”_

Nicole retreated to the kitchen to finish making the tea, her cheeks a flaming red hot and her nerves now translating to an actual hand tremor than made the cups jitter and clatter about on the tray. She tried lifting it three times, but with each attempt the small tremors became more pronounced. 

_This isn’t working. This isn’t going to work._

Her eyes fell on Dr Lesko’s battered card pinned to her fridge. Their most recent session had only been a few days ago and all they had talked about was Waverly’s return. Kiersten had counselled caution, but Nicole hadn’t needed to be told that. It all boiled down to a very simple equation. Waverly had returned to talk. Their conversations were probably the most important of their lives, but after the words came the actions. Waverly was showing her, every day in very small but somehow enormous ways, that she was here, she was _with_ her, and that made all the difference to Nicole.

Like Lesko had taught her, she took several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth, until she felt a sense of calm wash back over her. The small tremors stopped and her senses returned. She heard Waverly’s small, ever so slightly worried voice call out her name, then the sound of the show playing the introduction to her own Waverly themed cake. 

Abandoning the tea, Nicole hovered in the doorway, reading the closed captions. Each word stamped across the screen bringing the inevitable a step closer.

**_[Paul - Please tell us who has inspired your cake, Nicole.]_ **

**_[Nicole - Uhhhhhhh, well…adaptations of my Grandmother’s recipes have been a staple of many of my bakes, as you both know…]_ **

**_[Mary - Yes, I am very fond of this book and before the show is over, I want to thank you for sharing this beautiful family treasure with us.]_ **

**_[Nicole - It’s been an honour to share a little bit of Haught History, my mother’s and grandmother’s, while I’ve been here and my last Showstopper is no different. It’s adapted from the first one my grandmother wrote in the book and is in fact her own grandmother's wedding cake recipe.]_ **

“Oh! That’s so sweet!” Waverly called absent mindedly to Nicole, unaware of her presence behind her. Nicole refrained from entering the room. Instead, she leant into the doorframe, almost like she was trying to use it as a shield. 

**_[Nicole - The ingredients and method have grown and changed over the years and I wanted to honor that with this bake because… well, because while I’ve been here in the tent, I’ve had the great blessing of falling in love with the kindest, bravest, most honest and true person I’ve ever met. I honestly can’t wait to see how her brilliant mind is going to take her everywhere she wants to go and how her strong heart will ensure her happiness and fulfilment in life. She inspires me every day to love, to hope and to forgive. I feel like knowing her has helped me learn how to grow as a person so I want to honour her with my version of the Haught’s oldest cake recipe and give it to her, with my whole heart.]_ **

**_[Sue - How dare you. I’ve never cried on television before.]_ **

**_[Wynonna - Is she finished being gay for my sister yet because this cake is on fire.]_ **

**_[Everyone - Oh holy (expletive)]_ **

“Shit. Oh no!” Waverly hiccuped while trying to suck in a breath through silently falling tears at the same time as laughing at Wynonna holding a cake tin that was literally on fire on screen. Her hands flew to her face and paused there. She sat forward on the couch and half stood up like she was going to leap off it but she sat again. Quickly, heavily sinking back into the cushions.

“Nicole!’ She called out her name before spinning around on the couch kneeling up to look over the back to find her, like she just knew she was there, hiding.

“I’m so sorry.” Waverly almost barked, her tone conveying regret and sorrow for all the lost time, the fear that had held them at arm's length for too long. 

Their eyes locked briefly, but Nicole’s fluttered away sheepishly, unable to hold Waverly’s gaze for long. Waverly’s eyes begged and pleaded, searching for a forgiveness Nicole knew she didn’t need to give because Waverly didn’t need to ask.

It was too much.

It had to end.

Nicole moved swiftly, falling to her knees behind the couch. She took Waverly’s hands in her own, softly bringing her tightly clenched fists to her mouth. She kissed them, over and over until she felt them relax and loosen, along with Waverly’s tears. She lifted a hand, and gently brushed them away.

“Hey. No. No tears. The time for tears has passed. You sailed back to me. You sailed to me and that’s all that matters. 

Foreheads pressed together, the pair smiled as the show continued on without them.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to figure this out, okay?”

“Okay.” Waverly whispered, before returning Nicoles sweet kisses to her hands. “Okay. Let’s finish the show and then…can we talk some more? Please? There are things I need to say to you. Long overdue things.”

“Of course, absolutely.” Nicole leaned in, tentatively. Her eyes searched Waverly’s for any sign of hesitance. Seeing only hope reflected in her eyes and her head tilt in welcome, Nicole closed the gap and softly kissed Waverly’s lips and it felt like the first time all over again. 

It scared her to think about it how long she thought she would only ever have a last time. Waverly had been gone so long and Nicole had felt so lost and confused, but she was here now and they were building and sharing and Nicole felt a calmness wash over her with that single kiss. She could only describe it as an inner peace, a grounding of certainty in her connection to Waverly, and that moment, she knew that it wouldn’t matter if Waverly’s clouds ever returned. What was growing between them, as slow and steady as the tide, was trust. 

Nicole moved around the couch, never letting go of one of Waverly’s hands. They sat side by side, watching as Wynonna hastily made her whiskey soaked cakes again, sharing quiet soft smiles, taking turns to catch themselves looking at each other instead of the screen.

Eventually, the judgement section pulled in Waverly’s full attention, hanging on every word of the judges as if it could predict the outcome of the show.

**_[Mary - This is phenomenal Jeremy…]_ **

**_[Paul - How in the hell have you managed to create such excellence out of literal fire?!]_ **

**_[Mary - I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as exquisitely beautiful as this cake, Nicole...]_ **

Nicole didn’t hear a word of it. Her whole world had contracted to watching Waverly react to the show. Her face conveying the full gamut of human emotion, made all the more intense by the fact that she knew all of the people on screen and that she knew all three of them had baked their final bakes with her at the forefront of their minds. 

Somehow, over the course of the segment, they had moved. Nicole, almost lying down on one side of the couch, her feet tucked in under Waverly’s leg, socked toes growing warm against her skin. Waverly hugged a bent leg in close with one arm, her other gently caressing Nicole's skin.

The show had long since faded away from Nicole's consciousness as she instead grew mesmerised by Waverly's idly caressing fingers.

Her touch wasn’t in any way sexual, although it could very well escalate that way if Nicole was of a mind to let it. She found herself transfixed, concentrating on the sensation of Waverly’s fingertips created across her skin. If she was feeling particularly poetic, she might describe it in terms of ice skating, the sharp slice of the skates cutting patterns, looping through and around the sparse freckles dotted around her arms. On their own it seemed random, but when observed, through the sheer power of Nicole’s focus, an immaculately performed dance was unfolding that brought tears to her eyes.

This simple domesticity of a gentle, idle touch made Nicole feel as though she truely inhabited her skin, that she belonged inside it like she belonged inside this moment with her love.

“I love you.” She breathed the words unconsciously, softly into the room as a truth that belonged to the moment as much as Nicole’s body did. 

Concentrating on the show, Waverly only registered that Nicole had spoken, not what she had said.

“Hmmm?” She asked, slowly turning to her with a sweet smile, an expression that slowly morphed into an amused, questioning eyebrow raise while her hand never stopped idly tracing patterns across Nicole’s now goose pimpled flesh. “You’re looking at me like I just performed a miracle.” 

_That’s exactly what you did…_

Waverly’s face grew serious as Nicole simply stared at her love in wonder. Serious, but not concerned. She waited for Nicole to speak, patient as air eroding a rock face.

“I love you, Waverly Earp.” Nicole repeated, her voice quiet but the words clear and true. 

Waverly reached blindly for the remote control, switching off the show inelegantly, her eyes caught on the lure of Nicole’s own. She saw exactly how they blazed in response to her call.

Still holding Nicole’s gaze, Waverly moved, pushing one of Nicole’s legs into the back of the couch so she could twist and lay herself down over Nicole’s body, her face now mere inches away from Nicole’s own.

“I never stopped.” Nicole confessed, swallowing the lump in her throat as she felt a well of tears rise to the surface. “I can’t stop. I just… love you…” Reaching out for her face, she let her thumb brush at Waverly’s matching set of brimming tears. They fell in a trickling waterfall, painting her cheeks with emotion. “...wholly, and completely. Always.” 

The last word fell as a whisper into Waverly’s cheek as Nicole brought her lips to the canvas, kissing the salty paint utterly unsure if it came from Waverly or her own now tear stained cheeks.

Before her lips could wander into the inevitable kiss, Waverly moved her hand from supporting her hovering weight to gently caress Nicole’s cheek, mirroring the touch to her own face. She pressed her forehead into Nicoles, pushing her back into the couch cushion, drawing a ragged, emotionally laden breath.

With her face so close, Nicole could feel the movement of her breath on her mouth and the slight tickle of her eyelashes, eyes now closed like she was summoning all her strength to speak.

“God, why was I so afraid to hear such a perfect, wonderful truth?”

Waverly opened her eyes, leaning back again while allowing her magical fingers to continue carressing Nicole’s cheek. Nicole turned into it, kissing Waverly’s palm. More tears fell as her words hit her soul.

“I've wanted to tell you how I feel for weeks now, but I was so damn scared."

“Why?” Nicole asked without a hint of judgement or expectation, simple curiosity taking over. She cocked an eyebrow while gently pushing Waverly’s hair back, tucking it behind an intensely blushing ear.

“Because… I was terrified you would say it back, and I knew that if you did, I wouldn’t believe you. I mean, I knew _you_ would believe it, but I wouldn’t have.” 

“Oh, my love...” 

“I believed that I didn’t deserve you. That Willa was right, no one could or should love me. 

“Waverly, no. You deserve…”

“I know. I know, _now_.” She emphasised, her voice shaking as she noticed more tears falling from Nicole’s eyes. 

Nicole moved to sit up as a sob escaped Waverly. She pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her love as she pulled her firmly, protectively, deep into her lap and held her tight until Waverly’s honest and raw words could flow again. When they did, Nicole felt them vibrate into her neck where Waverly pressed her tear stained lips.

“...I know that Willa’s words that I’ve held for so long inside me were stupid, and false, and wrong. Love isn’t about who deserves it. It’s just there. Imperfect, sure, but unconditional. So when you say it now, I... I look into your eyes and know truth.” 

Nicole took Waverly’s face gently between her hands. She waited for the moment Waverly captured her gaze, and again spoke her heart's truth, “Waverly Earp. You are the love of my life and I have never loved _anyone_ the way that I love you.”

Waverly’s lips were softer than she had ever felt them. Placed with gentle purpose upon her own, they told Nicole wild tales with the mere taste of them, coated as they were with tears. They told Nicole, ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I want you’. ‘I want us’ and ‘I am here.’ Wild tales all, that happened to be true.

“I’m yours…” Waverly repeated, breaking the soft kiss only to begin again, kissing Nicole’s chin, her jaw, working her way to her earlobe to whisper more truths.

“Wholly, and completely. I’ve always been yours. I feel it. I know it. I’m here now, and I’ll stay, because I love you Nicole Haught. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Nicole’s heart blazed, flames caught on the wild wind of Waverly words.

“I love you too. My love. My lover. My everything. My Waverly.”

“Nicole…”

  
  
  
  


Slow

  
  
  
  


Nicole’s fingers, deep in gently falling tresses.

Waverly’s lips, soft, exploring every available inch of skin until that which was hidden is revealed, as if by magic. 

Clothes fall away, and Nicole is exposed to Waverly’s gentle kisses like fossilised ancient handprints to the gentle air after a once in a lifetime tide.

Waverly moves like she wants to make ‘once in a lifetime’ her new forever.

Nicole is carried by her tide, back and forth, back and forth, until words have no meaning and time is proved to be nothing and everything. Forever and minute. All she can feel is Waverly, promising her it all at once with every touch, every kiss. 

The tide brings life itself.

  
  
  


Push

  
  
  


Pull

  
  
  


Ebb

  
  
  


Flood

Air and breath are one in the same. Words superfluous and meaningless, the language of heat through skin, touch, taste, speak loudly with explicit truth.

We are here. 

We are each others’. 

We are always. 

  
  
  
  


More

  
  
  


Please

  
  
  


Oh

  
  
  
  


My love

  
  
  


Yes

  
  


I love you

  
  


Always

  
  
  


As sure as the moon rising, the waves crash ashore, and Nicole is overwhelmed by the surety of Waverly’s promise, and the depth of her own trust in it.

There is nothing but air. 

The sound of panting breaths, gripped skin clutched tight and unrelenting, the rocking tide waning, quieting once again.

Slowing.

Deliberate.

Considerate.

Until lips could form shapes capable of uttering words, sparse as they may be.

  
  


“Uhhhhhhh…”

  
  


“Wow…”

  
  


“Yes. Good word. Wow.”

  
  


"You're a wow machine."

Nicole snorted.

“So good, but differen’. Slow. Infused. Marinated. Hard to… words.” Waverly finally managed.

“Love.” Nicole stated simply, truthfully.

“Yes. Always. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

They surrendered to overwhelming surrusus, bone deep happiness and belonging lulling the pair into a shallow rest, wrapped in each other, settled into the couch until minutes or hours later, Waverly’s sharp, panicked intake of breath startled Nicole to wakefulness.

“Wait! Who won?”  
  


┌iii┐（＊〇□〇）……！ ┌iii┐  
  


 **EXT. BAKE OFF TENT  
** The Great British-Columbia Bake Off cake stand is held nonchalantly in the winners hand, their fingers struggling with the girth of the shaft and the bunch of flowers, because the other hand is busy wiping tears from their face. The camera is jostled, slapped away as if it were a face and we can’t see who is speaking.

No, don’t film me yet! I’m not crying. You’re crying.

As the camera struggles to return to balance and focus, there are a few moments of silence, punctuated by a sniffing nose and the rustle of flowers. The winner’s face is obscured by the bouquet for a moment as they think of what to say.

 **WYNONNA  
** Okay, so, this whole thing took me by surprise, and that’s saying something because girl, I have been surprised before. 

Wynonna points down at her belly.

I’m the girl with the big ass… ass and somehow… somehow I made it through all of this. I, Wynonna freakin’ Earp, beat the Nerdingtons. Who knew _that_ was a thing that could happen?

**CUT. TO JEREMY’S FINAL INTERVIEW**

**JEREMY  
** I am so not surprised. Not at all. Wynonna’s just so damn good and she doesn’t even know it. I’m so happy for her, and I’m happy for me too, because I got to come to the Bake Off tent! I feel like I could do anything now. I could _be_ The Rock if I wanted to. Well, The Rock, already exists, so maybe, like, The Boulder, or, or, The Slab? I know. The Pebble. Yeah. That’s me. Small and smooth all over. Uh, can we cut that bit? Please?

 **CUT. TO NICOLE’S FINAL INTERVIEW  
** Nicole smiles silently in the dappled sunlight. Her shoulders shrug in contentment. 

**NICOLE  
** It was always going to be her. Always. 

Nicole gestures behind her towards the party. Somehow knowing she’s being watched, Wynonna looks up towards Nicole and cocks her head, silently questioning what’s going on. When Nicole merely smiles at her, Wynonna flips her off and returns to handing out long stemmed flowers from her bouquet so eager children can use them as swords.

 **NICOLE  
** The people in my past have such an important place in my heart but my new Bake Off family are...they’re my future. I feel like I have all the ingredients in the world at my fingertips. I have a place. I belong. I have friends, I found… love, and I’m so damn proud of Wynonna. I mean look at her! 

Turning again to take in the party in full swing behind her, Nicole has no time to react to Wynonna shouting “YEET!” before a large piece of Peacemaker cake lands squarely in her face.

 **NICOLE  
** (Laughing)  
What more could anyone want?

**_Fin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 19 months, 1 week and 2 days, and it is done. The niche fic built to entertain 8 people has somehow grown to be enjoyed by roughly 400 regular readers and I don’t think I’ll ever be over it.
> 
> Thank you @wannabefireman for your glorious and no doubt tedious beta work. May you never have to read the words ‘breath’, ‘Croft’ and ‘assashole’ again. 
> 
> Thank you @Seda @FakeJulie @Zar and #ClandestineCricketClub for encouraging this nonsense to exist in the first place.
> 
> Thank you @zed_draws for the art that convinced me that this was the idea I had to tackle after ‘Five Ways to Get Out’.
> 
> Thank you @Pllionfish @delmacgirl @Namaenai and @700wordsAmonth and all you lovely people who have stopped to leave such wonderful and inspiring comments. Know that you have lifted and held me up throughout this, the arse end of 2020 and enriched my life to no end. 
> 
> Give yourselves a round of applause as a Great British-Columbian Send Off.
> 
> .·゜゜·（／。＼）·゜゜·
> 
> (I’m not crying. It’s just raining from my eyes)


End file.
